


Plan B (is absolutely awful why did we pick this woman)

by GravityEmblem314



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: "cassandra made a disgusted noise. 'I have no time for your foolishness'", Blood Mage Hawke (Dragon Age), Canon-Typical Everything, Copious Amounts of Elvish, Cullen Rutherford Bashing, F/F, Gen, Inquisitor Hawke (Dragon Age), Iron Bull Bashing, M/M, Purple-Red Hawke (Dragon Age), Sera Bashing, Vivienne (Dragon Age) Bashing, all bashing tags are the opinions of (very judgemental) Hawke, jeez the fact that Vivienne bashing is already a tag, no beta we die like wynne, not cullen though he deserves it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:22:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29267184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GravityEmblem314/pseuds/GravityEmblem314
Summary: "The Champion?""Gone. Like the Warden."Hawke came around the corner carrying Starbucks. "...the heck are you doing at my house?"*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*What if the original plan had worked, and Hawke was found and made Inquisitor? And more to the point, what if Hawke was a maniac Blood Mage? (don't let the word and chapter count intimidate you, this is a very light read) Updates on Saturdays
Relationships: Female Hawke/Merrill (Dragon Age), Leliana/Female Tabris (Dragon Age), Male Lavellan/Dorian Pavus, Maryden Halewell/Sera, Past Female Hawke/Merrill/Isabela
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. I Don't Know Where You're Going but I Don't Think I'm Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> Just to be clear, this is NOT "Hawke goes to the Conclave and becomes the Herald," this is "Hawke gets made Inquisitor and is a separate person from the Herald." Unlike...well, every Inquisitor Hawke fanfic I've read. Also, as mentioned in the tags, Hawke is super judgmental and bashes a lot of characters. This is not my opinion, Vivienne totally has her head screwed on right, and is far from the rudest character in the game.

“The Champion?” Leliana asked. 

Cassandra shook her head. “Gone. Like the Warden. What now?”

“We pray.”

A woman stepped into Hightown’s mansion district and stared at the company of Seekers stationed by the Hawke Estate.

“DREAD WOLF, what are you people doing at my house?!”

Cassandra glared at her. She was short, with neck-length white hair and a staff denoting her as a mage. She wore a black coat with a silver pauldron, and a red ribbon tied around her leg. She was carrying a black suitcase with the airs of someone who’s pretending to know what they’re doing. Cassandra was about to bark that this was Chantry business, but she suddenly registered her words.

“..you’re the Champion of Kirkwall? _You?_ ”

“Wait, am I?” She felt her face, then sighed. “Yes! I am! Thank you for reminding me. Now, care to explain why you’re standing ominously in front of my house?”

“But…” Cassandra sputtered. “Varric claimed you disappeared without a trace!”

“Did he really? I suppose he saw this...intimidating entourage and assumed you were here to capture me. I have a lot of enemies, you know.”

Leliana frowned at her. “So...he lied? All this time, he knew you were here.”

Cassandra growled. “That lying bastard, I’ll--”

“If you do anything, I’ll rupture your organs and make blood shoot out of your eyes,” Hawke casually threatened. “He didn’t omit the Blood Magic, right? Varric always had a habit of painting me as some sort of heroic figure. I can’t imagine why.” Cassandra scowled at her. Hawke gave her an extremely fake smile.

“Both of you, stop!” Leliana shouted, standing between the two. She turned to Hawke and said, “Do you remember me, Champion? From the Chantry?”

She examined her for a moment, before crying “Oh, Miss Nightingale! Yes, I recall…” Her expression turned to a frown. “Oh, Mythal, the Divine wants me...no, not dead. You would have sent an agent to slit my throat, not this smattering of troops. If you’re here to capture me, see previous comment relating to ruptured organs. If you want my help, please view the accompanying hand gesture-” She paused, allowing them to view it and feel sufficiently insulted. “-and get out of my house.” Hawke tried to push past Cassandra, but the Seeker grabbed her arm.

“You would refuse us without even hearing our proposal?!”

“Let her go, Cassandra,” Leliana demanded. “I do not blame her for her apprehension. As she said, we have not made the best of impressions.” Cassandra begrudgingly let her go.

“No need to fear for my life, Miss Nightingale. I’ve had bedmates rougher than her.”

“Yes, Varric mentioned a few,” she remarked, cringing.

“So! What’s this big offer of yours? Something to do with the Exalted March Justy’s been planning for the last three years?”

“I’ll have you know, I explicitly advised _against_ a March,” Leliana retorted.

“Oh, you’ve got me there.”

“And we sought you out because we’re reforming the Inquisition.”

Hawke froze. “...and?”

“We want you to lead it.”

Hawke somehow began more frozen. “...me?”

“Yes.”

“...you want me, a woman who _doesn’t even believe in the Maker,_ to lead an organization dedicated to spreading his word by any means necessary?”

“Believe me, you weren’t our first choice,” muttered Cassandra.

“Indeed. Coriander--the Hero of Fereldan, I mean. She was to be the Inquisitor. At least, hers was the first name suggested. Unfortunately, she left on an expedition deep into the south not six months ago. We’ve not been able to contact her, let alone make her the Inquisitor.”

“Yes, yes, you want the Hero’s stamp of approval on your little fascist enterprise. But I’m not-”

“Will you shut up and let her explain?” shouted Cassandra.

“All right, but only because I like your face.”

“The Divine has called for a Conclave--Mages, Templars, and Chantry figures, all joined together, seeking an end to this war. If all goes to plan, the Inquisition will not be needed. The motion to create it will fall through, and you may return to your business. But if it fails...that’s where the Inquisition comes in. It is to restore order, by any means necessary.”

“And you want me to be the hand that kills both groups? I’m flattered, really-”

“All this time, Justinia has wished to help the mages,” Leliana interrupts, raising her voice. “But the rules of the Chantry prevent it. The Inquisition will drum up the power to challenge Chantry law itself, so that she may take the course of action she believes is just.”

Hawke took in the proposal, still significantly frozen. “And because I’m such a prominent pro-mage figure…?”

“No one but the Warden has more authority and respect than you,” Cassandra explained. “You are beloved by the rebellion and feared by the Templars. There is no better choice to lead this Inquisition.”

Hawke sighed. “Well, I can’t say being the leader of a ruthless paramilitary organization doesn’t appeal to me. Very well. I’m in.”

“Excellent,” Leliana said. “The Conclave is in Haven, within the Frostback Mountains. We leave in the morning.”

“Th-” Hawke sputtered. “The morning? I’m supposed to be packed in…” She licked her finger and held it into the wind. “Less than 12 hours?”

“Better get to it,” Leliana said, leading the soldiers away. Hawke was left staring at them as they stomped away.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“...where…” Hawke said, at a loss for words. “...where did that chair come from?”

Varric shrugged. “Hell if I know. She didn’t bring it in, as far as I can tell.”

“So, this...this chair. Which I’ve never seen before in my life, I’m 90% sure I didn’t buy it...it’s just lying around my house? Just. You know. Sitting there?”

Varric shrugged again. “It’s a nice chair, you know. Dwarven-made, I think. The sort they have lying around Orzammar.”

“Yes, yes, very nice, everything’s confusing and there’s a chair. Did you tell her about Orsino?”

“Look, Hawke, I promised myself I’d never--”

“I can’t tell why. How did you get Aveline to swear never to speak of it? How did you get _Fenris--_ ”

“WE’RE. Not talking about it, ok, Hawke?”

Hawke narrowed her eyes. “I’m telling her.”

“Hawke, don’t.”

“It’s a lovely story!” She wiggled her eyebrows.

“It’s the opposite of a lovely story.”

“The opposite of a lovely story is a story that’s not enjoyable. Just because it’s not happy doesn’t mean it’s not lovely.”

“I agree with you, except for the part where beating a man to death is an enjoyable story.”

“Oh, I know. I was just teasing you.” She patted Varric on the arm and started walking up to her room. “Do you want to help me pack, or will you be busy with your own luggage?”

Varric frowned. “What do you mean, ‘my own luggage?’”

“USE YOUR ENORMOUS BRAIN,” Hawke shouted from her room.

He shook his head. No point in arguing with her. Hell, even if she _hadn’t_ invited him along, he’d offer to come. Maker knows she needs someone to keep watch on her at all times. Besides, it’s not like he has other business.

“Is Daisy coming?!” he shouted back.

“OH, DEF--Dogmeat! What have I told you about the bed!”

“Maybe he senses you’ll be leaving soon!” Varric joked.

“HE CAN HANG OUT WITH ORANNA. HE LIKES HER.”

Varric shook his head and left.

“WAIT, I’M ALREADY PACKED. I HAVE A SUITCASE AND EVERYTHING. HOW DID I MISS THAT?!”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Merrill came through the door to the Hawke Estate a few minutes later.

“We’re going on vacation, Freckles!” Hawke yelled. Merrill shrieked.

“Fen’Harel, _ma vhenan!_ You startled me!” She paused. “...a vacation? But you just got back!”

Hawke laughed. “And who should be waiting on my doorstep but a battalion of Chantry troops, asking me to lead an Inquisition! There’s going to be a meeting to try and negotiate peace--between the mages and Templars, I mean--and in the likely event it fails, it falls to us to force one.”

Merrill nodded. “And you want me to come with you?”

“Well, I’m _inviting_ you. I’d rather not be tied up in some inquisitorial business for a year or two without you. But, you know! Your choice.”

She frowned, thinking. “Well...how would...sorry, I just--what about the Eluvian?”

“Oh, take it, leave it. I don’t mind either way. But if you bring it along, I’ll make sure no one gets on your back about it.”

“...all right. I’ll come. But as _soon_ as the Inquisition’s done, you’re coming back to Kirkwall and making a bid for the Viscountry, so we can help the Alienage. Got it?”

Hawke nodded. “Not a big authority fan, but I’ll do it for you, Freckles. I promise. Now, we’d better pack, since we leave in the morning and all.”

“The _morning?!_ ”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The dawn had just broken when Hawke, Varric, and Merrill rendezvoused at the Kirkwall Docks. Varric carried one suitcase, Hawke carried two. Merrill dragged a huge bag behind her.

“What...what is that?” Leliana said, frowning at the vaguely mirror-shaped bag.

“Just--oof! Lunch.”

“I’m curious about how you managed to hide from us,” Cassandra said. “We searched the whole city for you.”

“I wasn’t in the city until last night,” Hawke explained. “Of course, perhaps the reason you couldn’t find me was your first line of thinking was, ‘Hey! Let’s kidnap an innocent Dwarf and forcefully interrogate him! He’s sure to be helpful!’”

Leliana laughed. “Well, I suppose that’s what I get for putting Cassandra in charge of finding you.”

“I face abuse everywhere I turn, it seems,” she said, in a completely deadpan tone. “We have not met. Merrill, I presume?”

“Yes, that’s me. Though, everyone who likes me seems to give me a nickname. Maybe I just have one of those faces.”

“Shall we head out?” Leliana suggested, gesturing to the impressive ship docked behind her. The three boarded, Merrill dragging her “lunch” as she went.

“Not a bad ship,” Hawke remarked. “Of all the ships I’ve seen in my life, this one is definitely in the top 10.”

“Is number one Isabela’s ship?” Merrill asked.

“Yes, number one is the Admiral’s ship.”

“You don’t have to call her that when she’s not here.”

“I prefer to.”

“Shall we cast off?” Leliana said, gesturing for the captain to set sail.

“Sounds wonderful to me. We can pass the time by singing sea shanties and putting on darkly humorous plays!”

“I have no time for your foolishness,” Cassandra grunted.

“Oh? That’s too bad. You’re going to have to put up with my foolishness for the next few weeks--and that’s an optimistic scenario!”

“You know what?” Varric said. “Maybe we should take some time to get to know each other. Take a seat, play some of those...ridiculous getting-to-know-each-other games.”

“I will abstain,” said Cassandra.

“Of course you would. Varric already told you everything about us. But, Miss Nightingale, I _do_ have a question to ask you.”

Leliana turned to Hawke. “Yes? What did you have in mind?”

“Back in the Chantry, you said that the Hero of Fereldan was ‘dear’ to you. ...are you the Warden’s girlfriend?”

“...I am the Warden’s _wife_ , actually.”

“Oh. You...you are. Here I was hoping to land on some unresolved sexual tension, leading to blushing and stumbling over words as you try to deny it.”

Leiliana laughed. “Trust me, our days of blushing and stumbling over words have long since ended.”

“Oh, do you know any embarrassing stories about her?” Merrill said, excitedly.

“Hmm, embarrassing?” she said. “I don’t know...Coriander didn’t really do embarrassing things. Though I daresay I embarrassed her quite a few times,” she giggled. “Oh, she would never dress up for parties, though. Well, sort of. She’d always attend them in full armor. She said it made her feel more comfortable. And...well, she was the Hero of Fereldan, she could very well wear anything she wanted!”

“Oh,” Merrill said, sounding disappointed.

“Is there a problem?”

“I was hoping for something dirty, I suppose.”

“What?! Well, I--”

“Oh, was she good in bed?” Hawke asked.

“Excuse me?!”

“Ah, she wasn’t?”

“Maker, you two are spending too much time with Rivaini!” laughed Varric. “Can’t you talk about something else for once?”

“Oh, all right,” Hawke said. “So...how about...mirrors?”

“Iris, that’s a secret!” Merrill hissed.

“Ah, right. Sorry. No mirrors. State secret.”

Cassandra made a disgusted noise.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Hey, Nightingale,” Varric said.

“You can call me Leliana, you know.”

“Nah, I don’t call anyone by their real name. I was just going to ask if you were with the Warden during the Blight. We could have some mutual friends.”

“Yes, I helped to kill the Archdemon. What friends?”

“Varric and I had a little scrap with Alistair a few years back,” Hawke explained. “You know, _the_ Alistair, the Grey Warden that everyone forgets about?”

“Oh, yes! We traveled together--he’s a lovely man. Is he all right? I haven’t seen him for half a year.”

“Well, he came out of the aforementioned scrap better off than anyone else. Except maybe Varric.”

He shrugged. “I guess I’m a tough nut to crack.”

“Oh, you’re a nut, all right,” ribbed Hawke.

Everyone laughed. Cassandra made a disgusted noise.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“So, Cassie--”

“Do not call me that, Champion,” she snarled.

“...So, what’s the story with that scar?”

“There’s no story,” she snapped.

“Well, every scar has a story, right?” Merrill offered. “It’s not like they just appear on your face one day. That would be silly.”

“Come on, Seeker. Nasty scar like that’s _got_ to have a sweet story behind it.”

“You know, I have a scar,” Leliana said, pointing to a small mark on her nose. “I popped a zit and it got infected. I was 15.”

Cassandra growled. “Very well, Champion. Do you have any scars?”

“Yes. Eight minuscule dots surrounding my mouth.”

“I’ll tell you how I got this--” She pointed to the gash of her cheek. “If you tell me how you got those.”

“...glad we could have this conversation.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

They docked in Amaranthine the next day, at around noon. After a quick lunch, the five set off on the road to Haven.

“So, we’re just going to walk? All the way there?” complained Varric.

“When I traveled with Coriander, we walked everywhere. Alistair had a whole journal full of foot-related complaints,” Leliana giggled.

“My, my. Do you have any other giggle-worthy anecdotes from your Blight adventures?” Hawke asked.

“Oh, I have _so_ many stories I can tell…”

Cassandra made a disgusted noise.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“...and then Coriander said--” Leliana switched to a very squeaky voice. “‘He’ll never see it coming!’” Merrill, Hawke, and Varric all laughed. Cassandra made a disgusted noise.

“I have no time for this foolishness.”

“Cassandra, you don’t need to--” Leliana said.

“You would do well not to get so... _chummy_ with a pair of Blood Mages.”

“Oooh, she’s going to get hung up on that, isn’t she?” Hawke said.

“Cassandra, I like Blood Magic no more than you,” she said, sternly. “But Hawke is hardly summoning demons and making sacrifices behind our back. You said it yourself: we need them.”

“Besides, _ma vhenan_ and I are very responsible with our Blood Magic.”

Cassandra made a disgusted noise. “Responsible Blood Mages? Now I’ve seen everything,” she spat.

Leliana turned to Hawke. “She has...reason to fear Blood Magic. I would beseech you to avoid using it in front of her. As a kindness.”

Merrill nodded solemnly. “I see. We’ll keep that in mind, won’t we?”

Hawke frowned. “Well, I--”

“ _Won’t we,_ Iris?”

“...yes, I suppose we will.”

Varric chuckled to himself.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Hawke laughed. “Really? To the _Chantry board,_ no less?”

“Indeed. And the funniest part? Coriander was just standing there, watching us!”

“Ha! I can’t imagine what her face looked like,” Varric said.

“I can safely say that she looked positively _ashamed_ to know us.”

Merrill laughed. “And here I was, thinking you didn’t have any dirty stories!”

Cassandra made a disgusted noise. “Will you all shut up?! We near the Conclave.”

“Oh, THAT explains all the mages and Templars!” Hawke said in mock surprise, gesturing towards the troops marching on two distant roads. “I thought it was a tea party, or something.”

“Do you take nothing seriously?” she growled.

“Uh...relationships and world-ending, apocalyptic scenarios. Well, actually the last one is arguable…”

“I have a feeling our new Inquisitor is going to be a handful,” Leliana joked.

“Ha! I could’ve told you that!” Varric said.

“I could have, as well,” Merrill added.

“And me,” Hawke said. Cassandra made a disgusted noise.

“There!” Leliana shouted, pointing to a large, dome-shaped building on the horizon. “The Temple of Sacred Ashes, where the Conclave is being held.”

Everyone gazed at it. Then, it blew up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This updates every Saturday At least, that's the plan. I have 5 chapters written up in advance, so that buys me a month or so to actually make progress in the game. (Jeez, but progress is slow.)


	2. And The Sky Opened Up--Everybody Wants to Change the World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to name all the chapters after song lyrics. No reason, just thought it would be cool.

Where...was he?

Everything was...strange. Green. Ruins everywhere. Was this the Beyond? Would Falon’Din come to his side any moment now?

Two huge spiders began to chase after him.

_ NOT THE BEYOND NOT THE BEYOND _

A figure--a woman? Beckoned to him.

_ Mythal? Is that- _

The spiders were fast approaching. She reached out her hand.

He took it.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

For a few minutes, there was silence. Aside from a whimpered “Oh, Maker,” from Leliana, no one said anything. The once-grand temple was now nothing but ruins, and a huge, green gash shone in the sky.

Varric narrowed his eyes. Something was coming out of that rift. Little specks of black, an occasional orange. Some faint, green ones, but that could just be sparks coming from the sky-hole.

Eventually, Hawke broke the silence.

“Dammit, Anders! You’ve done it again!”

Cassandra lunged at her, grabbing her collar. “You  _ joke  _ at a time like this?!”

“I always make jokes in tense situations. It’s probably a worrying sign of a severe lack of empathy, to be honest.”

“I thought you said you joke to hide the pain,” Merrill said. Hawke looked annoyed.

“Yes, well, that too.”

“GUYS!” Varric yelled. “Are those demons coming out of that sky-hole?!” Hawke got out a pair of binoculars and studied the area around the rift.

“I...can’t really tell, it’s hard with Cassandra holding me like this--”

Cassandra let go and watched Hawke fall to the floor.

“I suppose I deserved that.” She examined the rift again.

“Yes, Varric’s right. Shades, some Rages, and--is that a PRIDE demon? Huh.” She turned to Merrill and whispered, “If it offers you a chance to restore the Dalish--”

“Iris, you agreed not to mention that!”

“Glad we could have this conversation.”

Cassandra approached Leliana. “Sister, we must decide our next course of action. Our advisors and troops were in Haven, so the Inquisition still has most of its manpower. What do we do?”

Leliana did not respond.

“Sister?” Cassandra grabbed her shoulder. She didn’t respond. She simply looked upon the Conclave with the same mix of shock and terror her face had been frozen in since the explosion.

Cassandra made a disgusted noise. “I suppose I should defer to you, Inquisitor. What is our next move?”

“Ooh, I like that,” Hawke quietly remarked. “Get to Haven and have our troops search for survivors. Anyone who can tell us anything about this catastrophe. Then, we look for a way to close the Sky-hole. Contact what’s left of the rebellion, most likely.” She clapped her hands. “Come on people, let’s get to it!”

“YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW WHERE HAVEN IS!” shouted Leliana. Hawke stopped clapping.

“...all right. Lead the way.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The first day was spent defending Haven from Demons. It wasn’t particularly interesting for anyone involved, although Hawke got a kick out of watching the soldiers go all wide-eyed at her blood magic. By the late afternoon, they were driven back enough that the soldiers could perform a sweep of the destroyed temple--with some assistance from Merrill and Varric. When the fighting died down, Cassandra took her into the Chantry.

“Is this where I find out this was all a prank to turn me towards the Maker? If so, tell him I’m married--actually that might encourage him.”

Cassandra made a disgusted noise. “You are the leader of the Inquisition, but no great leader is without Advisors. It is about time you meet them.” She pushed open the door, where Leliana and an Antivan woman stood around a table with a map on it. Another person ( _ wearing what looks like the remains of several crows,  _ Hawke thought) stood with their back to the table, poring over a book.

“Ah, pleasure to meet you, Inquisitor,” said the woman. “I am Josephine Montilyet, your ambassador.”

“She will be your advisor in matters of diplomacy.”

“Ah, yes, Leliana mentioned you,” Hawke said, shaking her hand.

“Oh? I hope she didn’t flatter me  _ too  _ much,” she laughed.

“Well, not exactly. Did you two  _ really  _ pin your--”

Leliana coughed quite loudly. “I meanwhile, handle matters with a certain degree of--”   
“She’s your spymaster.”

Leliana sighed. “I prefer to be a bit less blunt.”

“And I believe you already know--”

“ _ Cullen? _ ” Hawke said with disbelief as the figure turned around.

“Hawke?” he said, with equal disbelief. “The Inquisitor is  _ Hawke? _ ”

“...and Cullen is your general.”

“This man? This man is our general?”

“You sound surprised,” Cullen said.

“Yes, because the whole point of this Inquisition is to intimidate the Chantry into supporting the mages. Yet, the man in charge of our armies--you know, the most intimidating bit of any paramilitary group--is also the man who once said “MAGES CANNOT BE TREATED LIKE PEOPLE THEY ARE NOT  _ LIKE  _ YOU AND ME!” In front of three mages.”

Cullen looked at her with a mix of shame and frustration. “Look, that was a long time ago--”

“Oh, really? You’ve now become much more adept at hiding your unfortunate opinions of mages.”

“I don’t believe that anymore!”

“So, you wholeheartedly support total freedom for all mages? The elimination of Circles and the Templar order?”

Cullen was silent for a very awkward moment. “Well--”

“I thought not! Still the same fascist asshole, I see.”

“I  _ let you go free  _ in Kirkwall!”

“I could have destroyed you and your Templar lackeys myself, let alone with all my loyal companions. Yet, you attribute your retreat to  _ magnanimity? _ ”

“Both of you, stop!” shouted Josephine. “If we were picky about the moral fiber of our inner circle, do you think we would have picked  _ you  _ as our Inquisitor?”

“Oh- _ ho!  _ Double burn from the ambassador lady!” Hawke said. Cullen groaned.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Daisy? Is that…” Varric pointed to a figure in the distance.

“He’s coming toward us, it looks like,” the leader of the search said. “And...that’s a staff. He’s a mage! Be on your guard…”

Merrill started walking towards the man, staff at the ready. He didn’t appear injured, so he was mostly likely not from the Conclave. And...he was an elf? A member of a Dalish tribe? Yet, so far from any region where they lived…

He stopped when they were a few feet apart. Varric and the soldiers stood at the ready.

“Please, give up your staff,  _ elethellan _ .”

“Very well,” he answered, holding it out. One of the soldiers took it.

“Huh. That was easy,” Varric quipped.

“Are you of the Dalish?”

“No, and neither am I of the Circle.”

“You are apostate, then,” growled the soldier with his staff.

“Perhaps. But I am not a rogue mage, nor am I maleficarum. I am a hedge mage, having never been a part of the Circle.”

“So, Egghead, you wanna tell us what you’re doing at the site of a huge magical explosion?” Varric interrogated, brandishing Bianca rather threateningly.

“I was passing by when it happened. I recognized the rift as being related to the Fade. I am quite knowledgeable on the Fade, so I figured my expertise could prove useful.

The soldier glared at him, but turned to Merrill. “It’s your call, elf.”

“He will come with us back to Haven, once we are done with our search for the day. Come, we must hurry.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

That evening, Merrill, Varric, and the soldiers returned to the town with two elves. One was a hedge mage who claimed to know about the Rift--at least, more than anyone else. While Cassandra was initially suspicious, Leliana found that witnesses placed him in a nearby village at the time of the blast, more or less clearing his name. His request to peacefully study one of the smaller Rifts was granted, although Varric was asked to keep an eye on him. Just in case.

The other was an unconscious man, seen running out of the rift with a strange woman behind him. Dalish, from the  _ vallasin  _ on his face.

“It is the symbol of Dirthamen, Elvish god of secrets and knowledge,” Merrill explained.

“Well, that doesn’t bode well for him. He’s our only suspect, and he bears the symbol of the god of secrets!” Hawke joked.

“You believe he is the culprit?” Cassandra asked, surprised.

“Of course not, that would be ridiculous.”

Cassandra made a disgusted noise. “I should have known we wouldn’t be in agreement…”

“He’s Dalish. What motive does he have? The only reasons anyone would do this is because they benefit from the war or a fractured Chantry. The Dalish gain from neither.”

“It could be the Templars,” suggested Merrill. “If they found out about the Inquisition, they may have taken desperate measures. If the Conclave fails to come to an agreement, they lose. So why not make  _ everyone  _ lose?”

“Judging from the sky-hole spitting out demons, they succeeded in the ‘everyone losing’ bit.”

The survivor also had a strange, pulsing, green mark on his hand. The same shade as the Rift. Solas, the hedge mage, said with almost absolute certainty that they were connected. It probably resulted from the explosion, he said. Unfortunately, this did little to clear his name--especially in the minds of Haven’s villagers.

“Usher her out, Cullen,” Leliana said, gesturing to the thrashing woman.

“YOU! You call yourself Andrastian, yet you allow him to LIVE!” she shouted as she was dragged out of the Chantry.

“Jeez. Is that the fourth attempt in the last three days?” Hawke remarked.

“The third. I have been told, however, that he will likely wake tomorrow.”

“Good. Let us move him to the dungeons for interrogation,” Cassandra said.

“Surely, you do not believe him responsible,” Merrill said. “He has no motive.”

“And he had no reason to attend the Conclave, yet he did anyway. Is it not suspicious?”

“You think the Dalish care not about the wars of  _ shemlens? _ ” she said, her voice rising. “They may not fight, but they suffer as any other. Why would they not want to investigate the possibility of a peace?”

“Haven wants an  _ el’harel _ \--a scapegoat, that is,” Hawke said. “He’s convenient. I hope you won’t treat him as a criminal for  _ convenience. _ ”

Cassandra made a disgusted noise. “Perhaps you are right. But he will still need to be interrogated. Just as we cannot be sure of his guilt, we cannot be sure of his innocence. He will go to the dungeons--however briefly.”

“I think Hawke and I will join you for the interrogation. Your recent track record has...not been good,” Leliana said. Hawke laughed. Cassandra made a disgusted noise.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

His eyes slowly opened. Three women--all  _ shems _ , presumably. A red-haired one with a hood, a dark-haired one with a nasty scar and an irate expression. And a white-haired one with a staff strapped to her back.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you now,” the second snapped.

“I’ve done nothing.”

“You LIE!” she raised her arm to strike him. He gritted his teeth, no stranger to violence from  _ shemlen _ . But the mage grabbed her arm.

“Cassandra, we  _ talked  _ about this,” she chastised. “ _ Tel'enfenim, falon _ .”

He looked at her in shock. “You...speak Elvish?”

“A little. And unlike  _ Cassie  _ here, Leliana and I don’t think you blew up the Conclave.”

His expression of shock intensified. He was the only Dalish at the Conclave, but still...all those people.

“Can you tell us why you were at the Conclave?” said the red-haired woman...Leliana, perhaps. Her voice was stern, but not harsh, like Cassandra.

“My clan...the Lavellan. They sent me. Our people suffer because of the war. We wished to see what would happen, how we should prepare for the future…”

Cassandra made a disgusted noise. “You are the only survivor of the explosion. If you are innocent, then explain  _ this. _ ” She grabbed his hand and pulled it up, displaying it to him. A pulsing, green mark was burned into his flesh.

“I cannot.”

Cassandra made a disgusted noise. “You were present during the explosion. What. Happened.”

He sighed--or grunted, perhaps. “I remember...the temple. There were...spiders. And a woman.”

“A woman?” asked Leliana.

“I thought I was dead. That I was in the Beyond. And that she was Mythal, mother of the Elves. But that wasn’t it. Something else...something strange…”

Leliana’s expression turned thoughtful. Worried, dark, but thoughtful.

“Return to the forward camp,” Cassandra told her. “I will take him to the Rift.”

“ _ We  _ will take him to the Rift. Remember who’s in charge here!” said the elvish-speaking woman. She said it with such smugness...he could hardly blame Cassandra for making a disgusted noise. The two led him up through the dungeons and out into the gleaming sunlight. His eyes took a moment to adjust. When they did, he gasped.

A huge, green gash in the sky stood where the Temple of Sacred Ashes once did.

“...what...by the Dread Wolf. What  _ is  _ that thing?”

“We call it the Breach,” Cassandra explained. “It opened with the explosion of the Conclave.”

“And if Nightingale’s spies are accurate, it’s not the only one. Rifts like it have opened all throughout Thedas,” the mage said. “Let’s hope she’s absolutely  _ awful  _ at her job, because otherwise... _ yeesh. _ ”

He gazed at it in shock. Normally, he’d happily tell the  _ shems  _ to  _ fenedhis lasa  _ and return to his clan, but if breaches were opening over  _ all  _ Thedas…

The Breach pulsed. A searing pain shot through his body. He fell to the ground, clutching his hand.  _ The mark... _ he managed to think through the agony. Then, it stopped.

“Each time that Rift expands, that mark spreads through your body. And it  _ is  _ killing you,” the mage-- _ el’falon _ \--said. “It’s like a really aggressive magical cancer.”

“And it may be the key to stopping this, if Solas is correct,” Cassandra said. ( _ Pride?  _ He thought.  _ That doesn’t bode well… _ ) “But we must hurry and get to the Breach. Follow me!” She started running in the direction of the temple.  _ El’falon  _ shrugged and ran after her. He had no choice but to follow. The cold gazes of the villagers followed him as he ran.

“Don’t mind the dirty looks,”  _ el’falon  _ said. “They’re looking for an  _ el’harel,  _ and you’re pretty convenient. Even if you’re the opposite of an  _ el’harel  _ in the literal sense.”

_ A false elf,  _ he thought.  _ One man to carry the blame of all. _ Cassandra and  _ el’falon  _ crossed a bridge, but as he crossed it, the mark flared up again. He buckled to his knees, and a chunk of debris from the breach destroyed the bridge. He fell onto a frozen-over river, where a Shade hungrily bent over him. Thinking fast, he saw a pair of daggers laying next to some crates and snatched them. The demon lunged at him, but he dodged and stabbed it in the back with both knives. As it screamed in pain, Cassandra landed on it shield-first, and it crumbled into shadowy dust.

“Drop your weapon,” she growled. “ _ Now. _ ”

“And leave myself helpless against rampaging demons? I’m presuming you want this--” He brandished the mark. “To close the Rifts. I can hardly use it to save us all if I’m  _ dead _ .”

She growled again, but  _ el’falon  _ slid down the hill and said, “Oh, let him have them, Cassie. He’s no danger. Especially not with me around.”

Cassandra made a disgusted noise. But she did not object.

The three ran down the riverbank in the direction of what appeared to be another rift. Unlike the Breach at the top of the mountain, this one was much smaller, though still large enough for some demons to crawl out. They were being held at bay by two elven mages--a bald man and a woman bearing  _ vallasin _ \--as well as a Dwarf holding what could be charitably called a bow. If you squinted.

“Hey, it’s the man of the hour!” the Dwarf said. “With Seeker and Hawke, too! C’mon, let’s kick their asses and see if Egghead’s right!”

The sentence was completely incomprehensible, but he understood that the demons could not be suffered to live, at least. When the last of the demons were gone, the bald grabbed his hand.

“Hurry, before more come through!” He thrust it in the direction of the rift, and a stream of green light burst from his mark, pouring into the rift. Shortly afterwards, a blast of green shot from the rift, and it was gone.

“Fascinating…” he remarked.

“I...what happened? What did you do?”

“An understandable reaction, all things considered. I helped you to--”

Cassandra made a disgusted noise. “I have no time for your foolishness. We must reach the breach, and quickly!”

“Oh, are those your catchphrases?”  _ el’falon  _ joked. “‘Disgusted noise’ and ‘No time for foolishness?’”

Cassandra made a disgusted noise.

“Heh! Certainly seems like it!” the Dwarf said. “But I don’t object to talking and walking. Bianca’s itching for a fight!”

“Fine,” Cassandra said. “We must move quickly” She continued to run in the direction of the temple, and the other five ran after her.

“So, introductions are in order?”  _ el’falon  _ said. “My name is Hurddleduff Beffuffulumper--” she burst out laughing. “No, it’s not. I’m Iris Hawke. This is Varric, that’s...Soris?”

“Solas, actually.”

“Yes, I see. And I presume you’re Bianca?” he said to the Dalish mage. An odd name for a True Elf, but perhaps she was born among the City Elves.

She giggled. “No, my name is Merrill. Bianca is Varric’s crossbow.”

His eyes narrowed. “A…. _ cross... _ bow?”

“It’s like a bow, except instead of pulling back on a string, you just push a button, and  _ woosh! Pow!  _ Dead.” Hawke explained.

“And...what is a button?”

“...you know what? It’s super-advanced Dwarven stuff. Just...don’t worry about it, ok?”

“...all right, then. I am Kevlan, of the Lavellan tribe.”

“I’ve heard of your clan,” Merrill remarked. “You roamed the Free Marches, did you not?”

“We did. As did your tribe, I presume?”

“Well, they...were  _ in  _ the Free Marches, at least…” Her voice was pained. Kevlan nodded sadly.

“I understand.”  _ It is a wonder that she can even work with the  _ shemlen,  _ after what they did to her clan. _

“I am glad to see you unharmed,” Solas said.

“That means, ‘I kept the mark on your hand from killing you as you slept!’” laughed Varric.

“I see. It seems I owe you my life, Solas.”

“No need to thank me. The survival of all of Thedas is in your hands.”

“So, you know,” Hawke said. “No pressure.”

After a few more scuffles with demons, the six reached the forward camp. Leliana was there, being yelled at by a rather ornery-looking man in what Kevlan recognized as the robes of the Chantry.

“I refuse to be ignored! As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I demand--”

“You?” Hawke laughed. “You couldn’t demand a bark from a mabari!”

“Silence! You disrespect my authority!”

“What authority, Roderick?” Leliana said coldly. “You are a beaurocrat. A glorified clerk. She is Inquisitor. I am the Left Hand of the Divine, and Cassandra is the Right. You have no power over us.”

“The Divine is dead! You would claim power in her name while defending the knife-ear who murdered her--”

“I murdered NO ONE,  _ shem! _ ” Kevlan shouted.

“He is  _ also  _ the only hope for our survival,  _ Roderick, _ ” Cassandra spat. “So I suggest you recognize that, and call off your attack.”

“You have already caused enough trouble without resorting to this exercise in futility. Call a retreat, Seeker. Our position here is hopeless.”

“Ooh, I love a good exercise in futility,” Hawke joked. “It’s one of my favorite pastimes, right after rending the blood of my enemies to kill them in horrific ways. And Parcheesi!”

“You won’t survive long enough to reach the Temple, even with all your soldiers,” shouted Roderick. “Listen to me. Abandon this before more lives are lost!”

“I’m glad to know that you value your own life before that of everyone in Thedas, Chancellor,” Merrill said softly. “That is such a selfless point of view.” 

He growled and stormed off.

“This brings us to the original question. We need to get into the temple somehow. Specifically, we need to get  _ him  _ into the temple somehow.” Leliana pointed at Kevlan.

“I suggest a full-frontal assault,” Cassandra said.

“Eww, no one needs to see that,” Hawke said. Merrill stifled a giggle. Cassandra made a disgusted noise.

“Look, all due respect, Seeker,” Varric said. “That plan sucks. It’s slower  _ and  _ more dangerous at the same time.”

“Our other option is the mountain path,” Leliana explained. “It would be quicker, though we may lose more rank-and-file soldiers.”

Cassandra made a disgusted noise. “We have already lost an entire squad on that path. It is no less dangerous than the assault.”

“Well, I say we leave the choice in Kevlan’s hands,” Hawke said.

“What?” he said, shocked. “You’re...deferring command to me?”

“Hey, it’s your life on the line! I like to give people control over their own fate when possible.”

He stood, deep in thought, for a few seconds.

“The mountain pass is safer. I will go that way.”

“And we will accompany you,” Leliana said, gesturing to herself, Cassandra, Solas, and Varric.

“And I can help defend the main army, provide a distraction,” said Hawke. “Would that make you feel better, Cassie?”

“One woman? As reinforcements against an  _ army? _ ”

“Oh, no, not one woman,” Merrill added. “I’d be coming, too.”

“Still, two extra mages are unlikely to turn the tide of battle.”

Varric laughed out loud. “You’ve obviously never seen them in action, Seeker.”


	3. The Only Hope For You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The amount of Elvish starts to go into overdrive from this point. Don't worry, none of it is necessary to understand the story. ...mostly. You may want to have the Dragon Age Wiki page on Elven Language open, though.

“By Fen’Harel…” Kevlan gasped. The Breach was scary enough from afar, but up  _ close _ …

Varric, meanwhile, was more occupied with the huge, scarlet crystals scattering the remains of the temple.  _ Red lyrium...seen enough of that for several lifetimes… _

Suddenly, an image appeared. Some sort of...vision? A shadowy figure held up an old woman in chantry robes…

“Can...can everyone see this, or is it just me?” Kevlan asked, voice shaky. Judging by Cassandra and Leliana’s expressions, it was the former.

**“Now is the hour of our victory”** said a booming, sinister voice. It chilled him to the bone.  **“Bring forth the sacrifice!”**

“What...what are we hearing?” Cassandra stammered. “What is he doing with Divine Justinia?”

“At a guess, the one who created the Breach,” Solas theorized. “As for the latter, I cannot say.”

“H-How is this happening?!” Leliana asked.

“Perhaps magic could have drawn on the lyrium under the temple, creating an... _ imprint  _ of this past event…”

**“Keep the sacrifice still…”**

“Never mind  _ how!  _ We need to seal the rift!” Cassandra shouted.

“To close it  _ properly, _ it must be opened once more!”

“Somewhat counterintuitive,” muttered Kevlan. But he allowed Solas to guide his hand.

“Be wary, this will allow demons to pour out of it--”

As soon as he spoke, Breach tore open, and a Pride Demon landed in the ruins.

“Well, shit,” Varric said.

Leiliana hit it directly in the eye with a fire arrow. It roared and charged in her direction.

“Close it, now! We’ll handle the demon!”

“This may be painful!’ Solas said as he thrust Kevlan’s hand towards the Breach. “May be” was an understatement. He felt like he was absorbing the fire of the sun itself into his palm. It was excruciating. After a minute or so, the beam of light, the pain; it all stopped. He collapsed.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Kevlan awoke with a start. He looked at his hand. No mark. At least, no visible mark. He heard a surprised yelp. He turned to the source, an elven servant carrying a pitcher of water and some cups.

“Oh! I’m, uh...sorry to bother you, Mr. Herald, ser,” she stammered.

“It’s no trouble. Though...I could use some water.” She handed him a cup, which he drank in one gulp. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Herald, ser.”

“My name’s not Harold. It’s Kevlan. Or...Lavellan, I suppose.”

“No, it’s...well...they’re saying you’re the Herald of Andraste,” she explained, handing him another cup of water, drunken in a manner of seconds. Kevlan blinked at her.

_ What in Elgar’nan’s name is an “Andraste?” _ he thought.

“I see. Thank you for letting me know. How long have I been out?”

“Another 3 days, ser. The Seeker--she wanted to see you at the Chantry.”

He grunted. “Forget the Chantry, I’ve eaten nothing in six days.” He patted her on the shoulder. “Thank you. You can take your leave, now.” She curtseyed and left the room. He looked to the wall across the room, where his armor hung.

_ I’m glad it wasn’t destroyed…if so, mother would kill me _ . He donned it and exited the building. A small crowd of people was gathered there--waiting for him? He frowned. A mob, here to exact vengeance on the  _ el’harel?  _ To his surprise, they started cheering and murmuring as he walked past them.

“Is that--”

“They say he stopped the Breach!”

“Is he really Andraste’s Chosen…?”

“I never thought she would pick an  _ elf… _ ”

“The Hero of Fereldan was a knife--I mean, she was an elf, too?”

“You think the Maker’s tellin’ us something…?”

His steps were...slow. Awkward. As to be expected, from spending three days unconscious and wounded.

_ That building...it’s a…”tavern,” right? A place to buy food? _

He stumbled inside. To his surprise, Hawke, Varric, and Merrill were all sitting at a table, right by the door.

“Told you he’d come here first!” Hawke said. Varric laughed.

“I never said I disagreed!”

“Do you need help walking?” Merrill said, getting up.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Kevlan said. He took a seat.

“Go on! Order whatever food you want! My treat,” said Hawke.

Though Kevlan had to be helped through the process a bit, they successfully managed to order a sizable meal for him.

“I presume you have many questions,” Merrill said.

“After I’ve eaten,” he said.

Once everyone had a hearty breakfast, Kevlan was ready to proceed with the questions.

“First question: somebody called you…’Inquisitor.’ What does that mean?”

“It means I’m an inquisitive person! Next!” Hawke laughed. “In all seriousness, it means I'm the leader of the Inquisition. And if that isn’t enough for you, the Inquisition is an ancient organization that can be called to reform whenever the world is in danger of falling into chaos. It’s more or less the Grey Wardens of non-Blight catastrophes.”

“Except the Wardens exist when there is no Blight, while the Inquisition disbands when it is no longer needed,” Merrill explained. “And the Wardens have been called upon during all five Blights, while this is only the second time the Inquisition has been called.”

“All right...second, the people out there...they called me the Herald of Andraste, or Andraste’s Chosen. ...what is Andraste?”

Varric stifled a laugh.

“Andraste was the prophet of the Maker. A holy figure for followers of the Chant of Light. A predicament you find yourself in, as well.” Hawke smirked.

“But…” Kevlan was at a loss for words. “I don’t believe in the Maker, I believe in the Gods of the Dalish.”

“You and me both, buddy,” quipped Hawke.

“ _ Ma vhenan  _ and I both believe in the Elven Gods--more than the Maker, at any rate. Though we do not worship them quite as fervently as you may.”

Kevlan frowned. “I find it...odd that a human would follow the Gods of the Dalish.”

Hawke shrugged. “‘Follow’ is a bit of an overstatement--I just think it would be more pleasant if they existed and the Maker didn’t than the other way around. Their adherents are so much less insufferable than the Maker’s, at any rate. Besides, presuming he  _ does  _ exist, I certainly don’t want to worship him with that line about mages in his holy book.  _ Huge  _ can of worms right there.”

Kevlan frowned at the idiom.

“ _ Lasa revas a fen _ ,” Merrill explained.

“Ah, I see. So...you two are…”

“Bonded, yes.” She giggled. “I told her about Dalish bonding traditions, and the very next day, she went into Sundermount, killed a bear, and brought it back to Kirkwall as a proposal!”

“Trust me, that bear corpse was  _ much  _ more romantic than a ring. ...a bit smellier, but still.”

“Sundermount? You were part of the Sabrae?” He had heard stories about the Sabrae--wiped out by  _ shemlen  _ Blood Mages summoning a demon. “I...I’m so sorry…”

Merrill nodded sadly. “It’s all right,  _ lethallan _ . I’ve had three years to mourn. It is the present that we should be worried about.”

“Yeah, like all that red lyrium,” Varric grunted. “That shit drove Bartrand and Meredith mad, and that was a  _ tiny  _ amount compared to what we saw on that mountain.”

“Meredith? You mean, the templar that the Champion of Kirkwall slew, starting the war?”

“Yes, she’s the one. By the way, you know that Champion of Kirkwall, right?” Hawke smiled.

“...are  _ you  _ the Champion?”

“Well, well. He’s a sharp one,” Varric said.

“Huh.”

“Yes, try not fall over in praise and reverence,” she joked. “Anything else you want to ask before heading off to the Chantry?”

Kevlan nodded. “Yes. How do you know Varric? From the way you act around each other…”

“Varric is probably my most loyal friend,” Hawke explained. “And definitely the closest, discounting dead people and those I’ve slept with. Let’s see…” She took a moment to think. “A pickpocket had snatched my purse, he tried to pin him to the wall with an arrow. But he  _ missed... _ and he ended up running after him with his stubby Dwarf legs. He came back two minutes later with my purse and a black eye.”

“I...feel like I tell it a bit better, Waffles.”

“... _ Waffles? _ ”

“Oh, Varric gives everyone nicknames,” Merrill said. “I’m Daisy, Hawke’s Waffles, our friends were…” She began counting on her fingers. “Junior, Blondie, Rivaini, Choirboy, and...Broody?”

“Nah, I just called him Elf. I  _ described  _ him as broody, though.”

“Right. ...but who’s Egghead?”

Varric laughed. “Oh, that’s Solas. You can’t look at his big bald head and  _ not  _ think of eggs.”

Kevlan smiled. “You have me there,  _ falon _ . But I think we’ve kept the Chantry waiting long enough.”

“Ah, yes. I’m sure they’ve completely collapsed after spending half an hour without their leader and their prophet.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

As the four approached the Chantry’s war room, the loud voice of Chancellor Roderick could be heard.

"Have you gone completely mad? The prisoner failed, Seeker. The Breach is still in the sky. For all you know, he intended it this way.”

Kevlan slowly put his ear up against the door. Varric chuckled.

“What a scoundrel you are…!” he whispered.

“He must be chained up! Taken to Val Royeaux to face trial from whoever is picked as the next Divine--”

“Which could take months, Chancellor,” retorted Cassandra. “Time we do not have.”

“The Breach is our priority, Chancellor,” Cullen adds. “It should be yours, too.”

Roderick growled. “Your duty is to serve the Chantry, or have you forgotten that,  _ Knight-Captain? _ ”

Cullen narrowed his eyes. “ _ Former  _ Knight-Captain, you mean.”

“Please, I beg for tolerance,” Leliana said. “I do not believe the Herald responsible for the explosion. In fact, I think he is very handsome--”

Kevlan was very confused for a second.

“--and excellent at spying.” She opened the door, and Kevlan fell face-first onto the floor.

“See!” shouted Roderick. “He engages in--”

“You were speaking quite loudly, Chancellor. I cannot fault him for wishing to see if what you say  _ behind  _ his back is any worse than what you say to his face.”

“I daresay she wouldn’t have even exposed him like this if it wasn’t--you know.  _ Absolutely hilarious _ ,” Hawke said, stepping over him. Varric and Merrill followed behind her, and Kevlan pulled himself off the ground.

“Now, Chancellor, as this meeting was called for the  _ Inner Circle _ , I suggest you leave.” Cassandra said.

“You cannot expel me like this--”

“Hey, who’s the Inquisitor here? Go ahead and naff off,” Hawke said, shooing him away. He begrudgingly left the war room.

“Well, I was hoping to do this to his face, but it will have to do,” Cassandra said. She slammed a heavy tome onto the war table. “This writ, called by the Divine herself, gives us the authority to act. Our mission? To close the Breaches, and restore order. From this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn!” She stabbed the writ with a flourish.

“Now!” Hawke slammed the table. “To business, I suppose?”

Cullen nodded. “As Roderick mentioned--and you may have seen--the Breach has not been closed, only stopped from expanding. We need a much greater degree of power to close it for good.”

“And how do we get it?” Kevlan asked.   
“Two main options have been floating around,” Varric said. “Either have the Templars suppress it enough that you can close it with your bare hand, or have the Mages pump you so full of magic you can...well, close it with your bare hand.”

He frowned. “I’m not sure how I feel about being pumped full of magic…”

“Their spells would be directed at the Rift, not you,” Merrill assured.

“Unfortunately, our options are limited by your choice of leader,” Cullen said to Leliana. “I doubt the Templars will even  _ speak  _ to the Inquisitor.”

“Even so, we cannot simply waltz over to the Mage Rebellion, either,” Cassandra noted.

“Why not? I love a good waltz! Or how about a tango?”

Cassandra made a disgusted noise. “I have no time for your foolishness. Many among the mages have grown weary of the war, and are embittered towards the one who had a hand in its beginning. It is better that we wait for their leadership to petition  _ us  _ to make an arrangement. And to make things worse, Roderick has already sent word to the Grand Cathedral in Val Royeaux, and the Chantry has denounced the Inquisition. And you, specifically.” She pointed to Kevlan.

“Because some believe me a holy prophet?”

Josephine nodded. “Some are calling you, a Dalish Elf, the ‘Herald of Andraste’, claiming you were sent by the Maker. That frightens the Chantry. What few clerics remain have declared it blasphemy, and we heretics for harbouring you.”

He grunted. “I don’t even believe in Andraste. Can’t you just...stop those rumors?”

“Even if we could, we have no incentive to,” Leliana said. “The people need a symbol of hope. To many, you are that symbol.”

Kevlan grumbled, but made no further argument.

“You know, we’ve just been talking like he knows who you guys are,” Hawke said, pointing at him. “Don’t you think he should, you know, get introduced?”

“Ah, my apologies, Ser Lavellan!” Josephine said. “I am Ambassador Josephine Montiliyet. I am the Inquisition’s diplomat.”

“And she once nailed her underwear to a Chantry board.”

“Oh, Leliana...told you about that.” She blushed. Leliana showed no emotion.

“I, meanwhile, handle matters with a certain degree of--”   
“Dear Mythal, do you always describe your job like that?”

“Well--”

“She’s the Inquisition’s spymaster,” Hawke explained.

“Wait, I’m confused,” Kevlan said.

“She’s in charge of all the spies.”

“What’s...what’s a spy?”

“OK, so, you know how you were secretly sent to gather information on the Conclave?”

“Yes?”

“Spies do that. Except with marginally more shanking.”

“Ah, I see.”

“SWIFTLY moving on,” Leliana said, “This is Cullen, the general.”

“He’s an asshole,” Hawke said matter-of-factly.

“I am  _ not! _ ”

“ _ Pretty  _ sure you are…”

Cassandra made a disgusted noise. “I have no time for your foolishness.”

“She has a point,” Leliana said. “Cassandra, I mean--I have no strong opinions towards Cullen.” Cullen groaned. Leliana continued, “While we wait and hope for the Rebellion to make contact, our attention should be turned towards the Chantry. We need allies against their outrage, to prove to them that we are not heretics to be feared. A Chantry cleric by the name of Mother Giselle has asked to speak with you. She is not far, and knows those involved far better than I. Her assistance could be invaluable.”

“What makes you think she will be helpful?” Kevlan asked.

“I hear she is a kind soul, not one for violence or subterfuge. She is tending to the wounded in the Hinterlands near Redcliffe.”

“So, Leliana’s agents will scout the area, establish a presence there,” Cullen said. “The Herald will make contact, accompanied by a small group of Inner Circle members. Meanwhile, the Inquisitor will stay here, help direct us in operations around Thedas to build up support. Does that sound good?”

“Depends. Will there be ice cream?”

Cassandra made a disgusted noise.

  
  



	4. The Sirens of Decay Will Infiltrate the Faith Fanatics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little bit of east jesus nowhere just to wryly allude to iris' opinions of the Chantry

“Harding, huh?” Varric said. “Ever been to Kirkwall’s Hightown? Cause then you’d be…”

He noticed that everyone was staring at him in confusion, except, strangely, Cassandra.

“You know what? Never mind.”

“...uh huh,” Scout Harding said. “Moving on: Mother Giselle is helping refugees at the Crossroads. Just follow the path, and you should be fine. Fair warning, though. There are mages and templars fighting on the path.”

“Mages?” Varric remarked. “You think they’ll--”

“These aren’t members of the Rebellion, or the Order, for that matter,” Harding cut him off. “Maleficarum on one side, lyrium-addled maniacs on the other. They’ll kill anyone they see. My men learned that the hard way.”

“We’ll keep a sharp eye out,” Kevlan said. “Thank you, Harding.” She saluted, and the four started their way down the road.

“Solas? Have you always lived alone?” Cassandra asked. “Out in the wilderness?”

“For the most part.”

“Is that not...difficult?”

“Among the Dalish, everyone pulls their own weight,” Kevlan said. “It is not hard to imagine that someone could survive all by themselves.”   
“Yes, but...the loneliness? Is it not trying?”

“People can be trying, as well. Mankind, most of all.”

“That is...an excellent point.”

Varric shushed them. “I think I can see some of those mages and templars ahead.”

Kevlan looked to the distance. “Yes, I see them too.”

“What now, Herald?”

“I’m not the Herald, Varric.”

“...what now, Not-Herald?”

Kevlan sighed. “I say, let them kill each other. We’ll pick off the ones that survive--”

At this point, he noticed that Cassandra had rushed towards them.

“Cassandra?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

“Protecting innocent refugees, you NITWIT!”

Kevlan turned to Varric. He shrugged.

“She’s got you there, Not-Herald.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“I can’t believe he thought he would get away with this,” Leliana muttered to an agent of hers. “But he must be dealt with. Make it clean--painless, if you can. We were friends, once.”

“Ah, nothing like killing a traitor or two to get your spirits up!” Hawke joked. Leliana shook her head as the agent left.

“It has nothing to do with enjoyment, Inquisitor. I do this for the good of the Inquisition. I once may have taken pleasure in the ‘dance of death,’ but I am not that person any more.”

Hawke took a seat on one of the crates in her tent.

“First off, that is the coolest name for spying I’ve ever heard.”

“Yes, it’s an Orlesian term. But--”

“Second: why not?”

Leliana stared at her, frowning. “Why not...what?”

“Why not take pleasure? Why not be that person again?”

She scowled. “What kind of question is that?”

“You just watched your mentor, and hundreds of acquaintances blow up in front of you. Here you are, acting as the Inquisition’s ruthless spymaster. Yet, you don’t enjoy it? You do it bitterly? Unwillingly?”

Leliana glared at her. “I do it because it must be done, and I am the best person for the job. Not because I  _ like  _ to slit the throats of our enemies in the night!”

“I think you’re misunderstanding my point,” Hawke said. “I’m  _ pretty sure  _ you’re traumatized following the whole ‘Conclave explosion’ business.”

“I am most certainly--”

“My point is, mirthlessly carrying out all this stabby-stabbing business can’t be helping. So...why not enjoy it?”

Leliana looked at her in shock.

“What, has nobody suggested that to you?”

“But I…” she trailed off.

“It’s just a suggestion. If you’re going to be our spymaster, why not be a spymaster that enjoys what she does? It might help you relax a bit!”

Leliana turned away from her. “...I will think about it. ...thank you for the advice.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Val Royeaux?” Kevlan said, frowning. “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” Mother Giselle answered. “If you address the Chantry there, you will show them your integrity--give them reason to doubt their condemnation.”

“And encourage them to unite against the greater threat?”

“If all goes well, yes.”

“...very well. I will take your words into account.” Kevlan hopped down to the path, where Cassandra and Varric were arguing, while Solas examined the refugees.

“Why does this upset you so much, Seeker? So, I stretched the truth a little to protect my friend--”

“Because your story was a lie!”

“It was... _ embellished,  _ a bit--”

“I can no longer trust a word you said! The very fabric of the universe is at stake, and our leader was picked on a foundation of  _ lies! _ ”

“Why  _ now _ , though?! You had two weeks to yell at me about this?!”

“Because we now have a  _ better  _ candidate! One who has demonstrated much more loyalty than  _ Hawke! _ I believed her to be a woman of integrity, if nothing else, but what else did you hide to protect her? What horrible crimes has she committed that you covered up?!  _ Who  _ is to say that she will not abandon the Inquisition the  _ moment  _ it becomes inconvenient for her?!”

Kevlan cleared his throat.

“Oh...Herald. Forgive me. I did not mean to…”

“Just...shut up. Both of you. We need to get back to Haven, and then it’s onward to Val Royeaux.  _ Understand? _ ”

The feuding pair silently followed him back to camp.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Cassandra? Do you...have a moment?” Josephine asked.

“I must leave for Val Royeaux, soon,” she answered. “Be quick.

“It’s...well, it’s about Leliana.”

Cassandra frowned. “You’ve...noticed her pain, I presume.”

“Of course. It’s obvious. And....well, it breaks my heart to see her hurting.”

She nodded. “Yet, she will not talk to me. She is always ‘too busy with her work.’”

Josephine frowned. “Oh...oh dear.”

“What?”

“She’s been doing the same to me. I was hoping that she might be more open with you...”

Cassandra sighed. “She cuts herself off from support in her grief. An upsettingly common occurrence. I have seen it many times--engaged in it, myself, in fact.”

“If only Coriander were here...I bet she would open up to her.”

Cassandra’s eyes lit up. “Josie? I have an idea.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“This is Val Royeaux?” Kevlan wondered aloud. “It’s so…”

“Beautiful?” Cassandra suggested.

“Urban?” Varric suggested.

“Representative of the oppressive regimen of organized religion?” Hawke suggested. “I mean, donuts?”

“...big.”

“Inquisitor, ser!” a scout said, running up the group.

“Ah, a loyal scout! Tell me, what news do you bring from your adventures in the city of donuts?”

“The Templars are waiting for you, ser.”

Hawke froze. “The Templars?” She hid behind Cassandra. “You know what? I’m going to sit this one out.”

“Don’t touch me,” Cassandra growled.

“But Varric’s too short to hide behind, and I’m pretty sure they hate Kevlan almost as much as me!”

“Deal. With. It.”

Hawke paused. “You know, I could just  _ make  _ you act as my shield--” Cassandra turned around and slapped her.

“You could not. Seekers are immune to the vile mind control of the maleficarum. You try, and I will chop off your hand and push it down your throat.”

“...glad we could have this conversation.”

“You know what?” the scout said, looking very embarrassed. “I’m just gonna be over here.”

“I suggest we move on,” Kevlan said, glaring at both of them. They immediately stopped and followed him into the square.

“You know, I think  _ both  _ of you outrank him,” Varric noted.

“What can I say? He’s got one of those auras.”

Cassandra made a disgusted noise.

In the Summer Bazaar’s main square, a crowd of people gathered around a woman in Chantry robes, making an impassioned speech.

“This Inquisition is merely a grab for power, built upon the corpse of Justinia to elevate a heretic and an anarchist rebel!” she cried.

“Uh, excuse me, hi,” Hawke said in a silly voice. “Hurbleduff Beffufflumper, of the Royeaux Crier, just to be clear? Is the devilishly sexy Champion of Kirkwall the heretic, or the rebel?”

“You! You two dare to show yourselves here, with what atrocities you have committed for power?”

“And you dare to show yourself here with that  _ disgusting  _ visage you call a face?” said Hawke sarcastically.

“...said Hawke sarcastically,” said Varric sarcastically.

“You are no better than what you accuse the Inquisition of,  _ Hevara! _ ” retorted Cassandra. “You brutally condemn us, while feeling your appointment to the position of Divine to be a forgone conclusion!”

“Oh, of  _ course  _ you would say that! I recognize you,  _ Pentaghast _ . As Right Hand of the Divine, you probably think  _ yourself  _ a better candidate!”

“I am concerned with  _ bringing order to Thedas!  _ You would not care if the whole of Orlais was swallowed up by the earth, as long as the Grand Cathedral still stands for your ceremony!” Cassandra spat.

Kevlan was watching their argument with great interest. Hawke and Varric were eating popcorn.

“And you would think a cat sneezing is a holy sign from the Maker himself!”

“A cat--ANDRASTE HERSELF was seen guiding this man out of the Breach!”

“You think the Bride of the Maker would send an  _ elf  _ to do his holy work?!”

“Why not?! The ability to save all of Thedas is not limited by the pointiness of one’s ears, is it?!”

“HA! Name a single great elven hero, and I shall name as many human ones as I can think of. We shall see who the Maker favors, then!”

“Oh, I don’t know--THE HERO OF FERELDAN?! Responsible for stopping the  _ shortest Blight in history?! _ ”

The crowd, most of whom also now had popcorn, started to murmur. (“Wait, the Hero of Fereldan was an  _ elf? _ ” “Wait, there was a  _ BLIGHT?!  _ Why does no one tell me these things?!”)

“SILENCE!” Hevara screamed. “Let the blasphemer speak for himself, then! YOU!” She pointed at Kevlan. “What makes you think you are worthy of Andraste’s blessing?”

“I  _ don’t  _ think I’m worthy!” he shouted back. “I don’t claim to be worthy! I don’t even believe in Andraste!”

The crowd gasped. Varric finished his popcorn.

“All I know is that I bear the  _ only  _ thing capable of closing the Rifts. And I am willing to sacrifice my very life to end this threat for  _ all of Thedas!  _ And I will not let some small-minded Chantry member get in the way of every elf, human, dwarf and qunari in the world!”

Hawke finished her popcorn.

“You will not be allowed to spread your lies any longer!” Hevara shouted. “The Templars are  _ here, _ and they will not suffer you to roam freely!” A group of Templars arrived at the platform, led by a man in Seeker armor.

“Lord Seeker Lucius…” whispered Cassandra. Hevara pointed to Kevlan.

“Arrest this--” Lucius punched her in the face, causing her to buckle to the ground. The crowd gasped. Hawke started clapping, until Varric grabbed her arm.

“Power-seeking crone,” he spat. “People of Val Royeaux! You will do well to remember that the Templar Order is  _ independent _ . We have aligned with the Chantry thus far--providing protection in exchange for resources, political power, support against the mages. But as you can see,” he said, gesturing to Hevara’s crumpled body. “They, and this city, have proven unworthy of our protection.”

“Are you sure about that?!” yelled Hawke. “You’re both quote unquote holy organizations, filled with self-righteous bastards. I’d say: yes! You  _ do  _ deserve each other!”

Lucius growled. “Watch your tongue, mage! The Chantry’s refusal of our right to purge your kind is one of the reasons we leave them to the hands of demons!”

“‘Purge?’ ‘The hands of demons?’ Do you  _ seriously  _ think you’re the GOOD guys?!”

Lucius glared at her. “If any of you wish to beg for our protection, we will be garrisoned at Therinfal Redoubt! If you swear loyalty, perhaps we won’t let you get torn to shreds.” He and the Templars left.

“OK! Now’s your chance!” Hawke said, pushing Kevlan onto the platform. “Say something inspiring! That will  _ assure  _ them that you aren’t a heretic bent on world destruction!”

“Uh…” he stammered. Everyone was watching him. “Those...those demons? They. They are not good. We intend to....uh….kill. The demons. We are...going to kill a lot of  _ demons!  _ Then close the brift! The reach. THE BREACH. Or...rifts. Uh...yes, we’ll kill six billion demons then close the rifts, thank you.” He left the stage, blushing deeply. The crowd applauded and cheered anyway.

“That was, uh…” Varric said.

“Horrible,” Cassandra finished. “But it did the job. Good work, Kevlan.”

“I am inclined to agree,” said an elven woman, dressed in the robes of a mage.

“Well, we’re flattered,” Hawke said. “Is that it?”

The woman smiled. “Not at all. You see, I am Fiona--”

“Grand Enchanter Fiona!” Hawke gasped. “Oh my! It’s an honor!” she said, bowing.

Fiona laughed. “There is no need, Champion. I am an admirer of yours as much as you are of mine.”

Cassandra frowned. “Fiona? Leader of the mage rebellion?” Her eyes lit up. Not necessarily in a positive way. “You admire her for beginning the Mage-Templar War?”

“Yes,” both said at once.

“Oh, come now, you were the one who defended Kirkwall from the abuses of the Order--”

“And  _ you  _ were the one who voted for independence. Anders lit the fire, I stoked it. You could have drenched it, but you poured gasoline on it instead.”

“Putting gasoline on a fire IS NOT A POSITIVE THING!” Cassandra shouted.

“And I agree, to an extent,” Fiona said.

Kevlan stared at her. “Wait, I’m confused. You only think that pouring gasoline on fire is a negative thing to an  _ extent? _ Surely it can be agreed--”

“It was a metaphor, Herald,” Fiona explained. “I’m saying that declaring war may not have been the best choice. But I cannot go back in time and change that decision--my only option is to move forward. And the Breach is a bigger threat than any Templar.”

“Ah, so the political support of the Inquisition and Inquisitor has nothing to do with it, I see! Wink wink,” Hawke joked.

Fiona smiled. “Well, I cannot lie and say it is not a factor in my decision. Come, meet us at Redcliffe whenever you are ready. We will arrange a deal.”

No sooner had she left than an arrow with a note tied around it hit the ground near Hawke. She picked it up, rather nonchalantly, and read it.

“Oh- _ ho!  _ The Friends of Red Jenny!”

Kevlan frowned. “...what?”

“I believe I have heard of them…” Cassandra said. “Are they not a ruthless group of assassins that target the rich and successful?”

“Eh, they’re a loosely-organized gang of criminals that rob rich assholes who can afford it. Especially the ones that go stepping on the toes of the impoverished. My cousin’s a member!”

Varric took a look at the paper. “A scavenger hunt, huh?”

“Looks like it. Come on!”

“Hold on,” Kevlan said. “What can these...Friends offer us?”

Hawke shrugged. “Money? Opportunities to beat up rich assholes? Who knows. But, as I said, that’s something to ask my cousin.” She ran off in the direction of the first clue.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“You’re sure this is the right place?” asked a cautious Cassandra.

“Oh, probably. And if it isn’t, there’s probably going to be a criminal activity here, anyway. Dark alleyways are like that.”

Cassandra made a disgusted noise. “I have no time for your foolishness.”

A fireball shot through the air towards Cassandra, who just barely whipped out her shield in time.

“Aha! A few little victims, ripe for  _ le murdering! _ ” said an Orlesian nobleman.

“Wait--you’re a mage?” Hawke said. “I was under the impression that mages couldn’t hold titles of nobility in Orlais.”

“Ah, yes! Many ask that. Indeed, I shall tell you my life story. It all started on a Tuesday…” Then, an arrow shot through his skull, and he crumpled to the floor.

“...hmm. Ok, then.”

An elven woman carrying a bow jumped into the alleyway.

“C’mon! We gotta get outa here before the reinforcements do! But don’t worry, they’ll take too long.  _ I stole their breeches! _ ” She burst out laughing.

“Are you...Red Jenny?” Kevlan asked, cautiously.

“Nah, no one’s Red Jenny, really. We’re all just her friends, not her lovers, or her. Was there ever really a her? I don’t know. PFFT! Breeches…”

“Uh, huh. Guess someone took her crazy pills this morning...” Hawke muttered.

“Oh, is  _ that  _ what I’ve been seeing you swallow?” Varric joked.

“No, no, those are silly pills. Unlike crazy pills, the imbiber of a silly pill is still somewhat comprehensible.”

Cassandra made a disgusted noise. “I have no time for your foolishness.”

“Look, I’ll cut straight to the point, you know, like scissors. Wait, you’re not one of them elfy elves, are ya?”

Kevlan frowned. “Elfy...elves?”

“You know, facey tattoos, mucking about the wilderness. Wastin’ their whole life trying to get something you already lost, all that shite.”

Hawke frowned. “I have a feeling we’re not going to get along.”

“So! Straight point. Scissors, cut. I want to join the Inquisition!”

Cassandra frowned. “You and the Friends of Red Jenny?”

“Welllllllll….I’m joining, and the Friend of Red Jenny is me, yeah? SO….I guess.”

“Can you provide allies?”

“No.”   
“Soldiers?”

“No.”

“Noble allies?”

“PFFT! Hell, no!”

“Can you do  _ anything  _ to help our cause?”

“Well, you see…” She burst out laughing. “...breeches....”

“Allow me to consult with my allies.”

Cassandra pulled Hawke, Kevlan, and Varric aside.

“What do you think?”

“I hate her,” Hawke said.

“I...agree,” Kevlan added. “She has such...disrespect for my people.”

“And she provides nothing for the Inquisition.”

“Except the chance to get robbed blind in the middle of the night,” Varric said.

“Are we in agreement?” Hawke said. Everyone nodded. She turned to the elf and said, “No. Get lost.”

“Well. Shite.” She walked off into the distance.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Hawke dumped a significant pile of letters on the war table.

“...what is this?!” Cullen asked angrily.

“The effect of one woman on the power of the Inquisition. Tell me, do we have a navy?”

“...no?”

“WELL WE DO NOW!” she shouted, holding up a letter. “Also, we have a steady supply of Drakestone, the support of the City of Kirkwall, and agents in the form of a Friend of Red Jenny in the Free Marches and a  _ very  _ irritable elf with a large sword.”

“All these, just from your adventures as Champion of Kirkwall?” Kevlan asked.

“Haha! Pretty much. I--” She paused as she looked at the letter, and her expression turned to a surprised smile. “Aww, it’s signed ‘Admiral  _ Isabela! _ ’”

“I suppose she’s the old flame with a pirate ship you mentioned?” Leliana teased.

“A lady never tells, I’m afraid...”

Cullen cleared his throat. “Shall we get back to business?”

“Yes, excellent idea. Firstly--”

“Wait, this one’s for Kevlan,” Hawke said, handing it to him. “From a ‘First Enchanter Vivienne,’ apparently.”

“I think you have one, too?” he said, pointing to a similar envelope, also from Vivienne. She tore open the letter to read it.

“Aww, we’ve been invited to a party!”

Leliana took the letter. “I’d point out the difference between a salon and a ‘party,’ but I have a feeling it would be lost on both of you.”

Kevlan sighed. “It’s all the same to me. Just humans getting drunk, no matter how much you dress it up.”

“Humans getting drunk, you say?  _ I’m  _ a human!” Hawke said eagerly.

“I’d refuse, but I have a feeling this isn’t just a social call,” Kevlan said, holding up the invitation. Leliana nodded.

“She is Enchanter to the imperial court--one with a great deal of influence in Orlesian politics. She may even have the ear of the Empress herself. Gaining her allegiance would mean a great deal of power in Orlais.”

Cullen cleared his throat again. “SHALL WE GET BACK TO BUSINESS? Please.”

Josephine nodded. “The first matter of import will be of personal significance to the Herald.”

“My clan?” Kevlan guessed.

“Indeed. They fear you are held captive, and wish to know why, or to receive word that you stay willingly. This is a delicate matter. Your people must be approached carefully. One of our elven scribes could deliver a message and share news of the Inquisition's fair treatment--with an accompanying personal message, of course.”

“The Dalish respect deeds, not words,” offered Leliana. “At least, the ones I knew did. Let my elven agents deliver something the clan needs as a show of good faith.”

“My troops can deliver news of your safety and make it clear that the Inquisition should be taken seriously,” Cullen said.

“I defer to Kevlan. They’re his family,” Hawke said.

Kevlan frowned. “Well...first off, you’re an idiot,” he said, pointing to Cullen.

“You couldn’t be more right!” Hawke said. Cullen groaned.

“Your suggestion is an excellent way to get the whole clan killed. Josephine, write your message, and I’ll write mine. We’ll send the messenger tomorrow.”

“Next, we have a new suspect in the matter of the Conclave explosion,” Leliana said. “But...well, you’ll have to bear with me for a moment.”

“I have several moments. And a bear, actually--no, wait, it’s dead. What were you saying?”

“...the Grey Wardens.”

Hawke stared at her. “You’ll...have to elaborate a bit.”

“They disappeared after the Conclave explosion, and with the exception of one man seen wandering the Hinterlands, they have not been seen since. That is  _ extremely  _ suspicious, and worth looking into, even if they are innocent.”

“Alistair’s not involved,” Hawke said. Leliana sighed.

“I don’t want to believe it either, but we can’t discount--”

“No, I mean, Alistair’s  _ not involved. _ In fact, he’s not been with the Grey Wardens for months.”

“...what?”

“I received a letter from him before you came to recruit me. He said something was going on with the Wardens, and that he’d be hiding out in Crestwood with some other Wardens for the foreseeable future. A plot to kill the Divine is certainly “something going on,” don’t you think?”

Leliana frowned. “If he knew, and did nothing about it--”

“Oh, if it was that dire when he left, he would have said something. But...look, just try and find him, ok?”

Leliana nodded.

“There is one more matter. A well-reputed mercenary company called the Bull’s Chargers is stationed on the Storm Coast,” Cullen said. “We may want to think about recruiting them.”

“They offered their services to us by a message from a man named Krem,” Josephine explained.

“Sounds interesting,” Hawke said. “What do we know about them?”

“Well, their leader is a Qunari by the name of--”

“NOPE,” Hawke said, strolling out the room.

“But you haven’t--” protested Kevlan.

“This meeting is  _ over _ .” Hawke slammed the door to the war room shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's chapter, featuring: Iris being a terrible influence on Leliana! :D:D:D:D
> 
> And also, Iris has something against Qunari, which, if you look closely, I have hidden subtle clues within the text as to why. *COUGH COUGH* dark horse comics trilogy *COUGH COUGH*
> 
> Finally, I'd like to note that I'm done up through chapter 11. So that's six more weeks of winter, i mean Fanfic.


	5. Well, If You Wanted Honesty, That's All You Had To Say

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooh, boy. Today's a doozy of a chapter! Featuring all four bashing tags listed! :D:D:D:D:D
> 
> Though in hindsight, I don't think I'm really bashing Vivienne or Iron Bull? Sera and Cullen are meaner than in canon, and the other characters like them less/call them out for it, but Vivienne and Bull are pretty consistent with the original game, and it's just Iris who hates them. And in fact, later chapters may even show Vivienne being NICER than in canon.
> 
> Also, Iris gets to interrupt this borderline crack fic with some angst. So, watch out for that.

“So, what are you in here for?” an elf asked. Hawke sighed and stared into her mug.

“Bad memories got brought up. I’m getting too smash-ed to remember them. The memories, not the...not, the, uh...You?”

She shrugged. “Hey, the tavern’s the party house. I like to party.”

Hawke frowned. “You know, you sound like--” She looked up at the elf. “Oh, hell, you again?”

“Name’s Sera, for all it’s worth. Which is not a lot, I’m poor.”

Hawke groaned. “I thought I told you--”

“I tracked you down. Wasn’t that hard, everyone seems to know. They say this town used to be a cult? That true?”

“You, miss, are a securitical risk.”

“And Dwarfy-man isn’t? I saw his little nimble fingers.”

“ _ Dwarfy-man  _ happens to be my most loyalist friend of all time--loyal, not loyalist, that makes him sound like...uh, a rebel not rebel, or something,” Hawke mumbled. “Look, the point is, I can trust him. I  _ can’t  _ trust you, ‘specially because you’re...Dalish racist, or whatever.”

Sera frowned. “Hey, I got nothing against the Dalish. I just think they’re idiots.”

“You think they’re idiots for following their culture? Uh huh. Nothing against. Right.”

“Look, I stand up for the little guy, right? And with those rifts, demons start pouring out, then they stop being little, then a guy. So I’ve got just as much incentive as anyone to close those breaches--” She burst out laughing. “Ha! Breeches…”

“Fine, you’re in. Now--now you gotta take the Inquisition oath.” Hawke held up her hand. “I solemnly swear. That’s it.”

Sera held up her hand. “I solemnly swear.”

“Great, now you gotta swear. All serious-like.”

“Piss,” Sera said, quite profoundly.

“Yeah, close enough. Dear Mythal, I need to go to bed…”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Is the presence of Miss Sera something that should be addressed?” Leliana asked.

“Do you mean, addressed as in ‘give her a stern talking-to about the rules?” Hawke asked. “Or addressed as in ‘murder?’ I’m fine with either.”

“We’re not going to murder her for being irritating!” Josephine objected.

“She put itching powder in your bed and every piece of clothing you own!” Cullen said.

“A harmless prank!”

“Which caused you to miss a meeting with an important dignitary, due to a lack of clothing,” Leliana said. “Who is to say that it was not a carefully calculated sabotage attempt?”

“Anyone who’s actually met her?” Hawke offered.

“Still, I think your proposal, Inquisitor, is a bit…”

“Come now, it was merely a jest! Only, like, a quarter serious.”

As she spoke, Merrill poked her head through the door.

“Excuse me? May I speak to Iris for a minute?” she asked.

“We’re in the middle of a meeting, Merrill,” Cullen said.

“Oh! Now I know where I recognize you!” she said. “You were that Templar, in Kirkwall! Meredith’s second-in-command!”

Cullen’s eye twitched.

“Actually, why are you here? I would have thought  _ ma vhenan  _ would have you arrested for all the awful things that happened there.”

Cullen’s eye twitched more.

“I mean,  _ maybe  _ you didn’t do anything particularly bad, but you weren’t really doing anything  _ about  _ the abuses, right?”

Cullen’s eye twitched even more.

“Plus, you told us mages weren’t people. That wasn’t very good of you.  _ I’m  _ a mage, but I’m still a person, right?”

Cullen’s eye furiously twitched.

“Can someone help me?” he asked. Leliana shrugged.

“She has a point, Cullen.” He groaned.

“Not that I don’t love exposing Cullen as a complete asshole, but we can put the meeting on hold and let me talk to my wife?” Hawke said. “We were just chatting about Sera, and whether or not to kick her out of the Inquisition.”

“Oh, I actually have her right here!” Merrill said, opening the door to reveal Sera. She was lying on the ground, transformed into a stone statue.

“... _ gro Mythal _ , Merrill, what did she do to piss you off so much?” Hawke said, pleasantly surprised. “Give you the ‘ol ‘Dalish are losers’ spiel?”

“Uh, she actually tried to carve a crude message into my mirror? But that doesn’t really work, the knife just--” She paused and stared at the advisors. “Anyway, I brought her here! I’ll stop having her be made of rock, now.” She released the spell, and Sera sat straight up.

“Shite, will you chill out?!” she screamed. “It’s just a mirror!”

“Well, actually, it’s a--” Hawke started to say. Merrill shushed her.

“Anyway, good luck with your meeting! I hope you come up with a good solution to the Sera problem!” Merrill kissed Hawke and left the war room.

“...what ‘Me Problem?’” Sera asked.

“We’re strongly considering expelling you from the Inquisition, since all you do is play pranks and compromise security,” Cullen said.

“Hey, I compromise other stuff! AND I play other stuff! All stuff, y’know?”

“Give us one good reason why we shouldn’t kill you now,” Leliana said, smiling.

“Jeez, that’s intense. Uh...BEES!”

Josephine screamed and ducked under the war table.

“Bee Jars, I mean. The bees, in the jars.”

“Oh. That...that was a reason,” Josephine said, blushing deeply. “Not...not a warning. Oh.” She cleared her throat.

“Jars of bees?” Leliana asked, frowning.

“Yeah, got a Jenny contact. She makes ‘em. As a hobby. She’s in Orlais somewhere, offerin’ the recipe in exchange for some noble-kicking. That’s what she calls it. You don’t have to kick them.”

Leliana arched her eyebrow. “What are the details?”

“Some party down south. Big festivity. She wants you Inquisitorial people to mess it up.”

She grinned. “Ruining a party to humiliate its host? That brings me back…”

“In that case, I leave the mission in your hands, Leliana,” Hawke said. “Have fun!”

“Perhaps my comrades misjudged you,” Josephine said. “If your contacts bear more fruit in the future, you may find yourself among the Inquisition’s Inner Circle.”

Sera frowned. “Uh, doesn’t Bleach over there hate me?”

Hawke laughed. “That didn’t discount Cullen, did it?”

Cullen groaned.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“I’d like to discuss the Chargers,  _ el’falon _ ,” Kevlan said.

Merrill triumphantly placed her castle on the edge of the chessboard.

“King me!”

“No, honey, that’s checkers,” Hawke said.

“Did you hear me? I’d like to discuss the Chargers.”

“I think he’d like to discuss the Chargers,  _ ma vhenan _ .”

“Now, if that were a  _ pawn _ , you could promote it into any unit--usually a queen. But it’s not a pawn.”

“Wait, did you hear me?” Merrill leaned over to Hawke and said, “I THINK HE’D LIKE TO DISCUSS THE CHARGERS!”

Hawke winced. She reached over and moved her bishop. “Check. You have to take that Bishop, or move your king into an unthreatened space.”

“Iris, are you--OH! You’re ignoring him!” Merrill turned to Kevlan. “She’s ignoring you.”

“Yes, I figured,” Kevlan said. “Will she listen to you?”

“Let me check. Iris, will you listen to me?”

“Yes, Merrill, I will listen to you.”

Merrill turned to Kevlan and said, “She says she’ll listen to me.”

“I could hear her, you know.”

“Oh, silly me.” She moved her knight, taking a bishop.

“No, not  _ that  _ bishop,  _ this  _ bishop.”

“Oops, sorry.” She replaced the bishop and took the one threatening her king. “Wait--where do I put my knight, then? The bishop is still there, so--”

“No, no, you only can only take the bishop if you move a piece onto it. That knight can’t take that bishop.”

Kevlan slammed the table, causing Hawke’s king to fall over.

“Oh, your king’s gone! Do I win?” Merrill joked.

“Will you pay attention to me?!” he shouted.

Merrill asked Hawke, “He wants to know if you’ll pay attention to him.”

“Hmm? Did you say something?”

“I SAID--oh! Oh, I get it. She won’t pay attention to you,” she told Kevlan.

“Does she realize how infuriating this is?”

“Oh, probably. Iris likes to annoy people, especially people that don’t like her but she likes anyway.”

“I  _ do  _ like her!”

“Really? You aren’t acting like it.”

Hawke said, “ _ This  _ knight can take that bishop, though.”

“Oh, and  _ that  _ knight can take  _ this  _ bishop!”

“Exactly! Except  _ this  _ bishop isn’t threatening your king, so it doesn’t matter.”

“I see! ...what’s a bishop?”

“...what?” Hawke asked, as Kevlan paced around the chess table.

“I know what a king is, and I know what a queen is. I know what a knight is, and what a castle is. I even know what a pawn is, because people are always calling us pawns, right before we kill them. But what’s a bishop?”

Hawke said, “Well, you see--” She paused. “... _ I don’t know _ .”

“Merrill, are you willing to talk to me?” Kevlan asked, gesturing for her to join him away from the table.

“ _ Ma vhenan?  _ I’m just going to go talk to the man you’re ignoring, ok?”

“Tell him I’m ignoring him!” Hawke said, examining the chessboard.

“Why does the Inquisitor refuse to recruit the Chargers?” he asked. “They  _ offered  _ their services, and Josephine’s already set aside the money.”

“Iris doesn’t like Qunari,” Merrill said. “Well, that’s not really accurate. Iris  _ hates  _ Qunari.”

Kevlan looked at her in shock. “Hawke?  _ Hawke  _ hates Qunari? Despite--”

“You’re not really  _ born  _ a Qunari like you’re born a mage, or an elf,” Merrill explained. “It’s a bit confusing. But she’s had a lot of bad experiences with them, and having a Qunari walking around camp as they please...well, that would cause her a lot of pain.”

Kevlan opened his mouth to respond, but Hawke shouted. “Your move, Merrill!”

“Coming,  _ lath! _ ” She ran back to rejoin the game.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The fact that Sera, the criminal elf with a dislike of the Dalish ways, had inserted herself into the Inquisition’s Inner Circle...concerned Kevlan. Mostly, because he had fallen victim to several of her pranks over the following week. But what concerned him more was the Inquisitor’s steadfast refusal to recruit the Chargers. All because of a...petty grudge? When the world is at stake and every bit of assistance is needed?

“Varric, you have an abject disrespect for authority, don’t you?” he asked. Varric smiled slyly.

“You wanna be more specific, Not-Herald?”

“The Inquisitor refused to recruit the Chargers. But the money is already set aside, so…”

Varric’s smile turned to a frown. “Look, buddy. I get what you’re trying to do. But Hawke…” he sighed. “Well, let’s just say she has good reason to hate the Qunari.”

“Good reason to hate an entire race?”

“Not-Herald, there’s a lot of misconception going around with them, so I don’t blame you for being confused. Actually, it’s pretty confusing. But basically, not every big, metal-skinned, horned dude is a Qunari, and not every Qunari is a big, metal-skinned, horned dude.”   
Kevlan frowned. “Wait, I’m confused.”

“A Qunari is a follower of the Qun--a religion, basically. People who aren’t in the know tend to call all of the horned dudes ‘Qunari,’ but that’s not quite accurate. Some of them are Vashoth, which means they don’t follow the Qun. And some of the Vashoth are Tal-Vashoth, which means they up and  _ left  _ the Qunari. It’s the ones who care about the Qun that Hawke’s got issues with. So, in summary,” Varric said. “If the leader of the Chargers is Vashoth, Waffles will have no problem. If they’re Tal-Vashoth, they might even get along pretty well. But if they’re Qunari--yeah. Don’t even bother hiring them. You understand?”

Kevlan frowned. “I understand what you’re saying, but...why does she hate the Qun so much? Surely it isn’t  _ that  _ much of an issue…”   
“No, trust me, Not-Herald. It’s that much of an issue.”

“She’s not even particularly religious!”

“It’s not that they follow a different religion: it’s what that religion says they should do. You get it?”

“What...what specifically?”

“I...look, if I told you, that’s more or less talking about someone else’s trauma. And I’m not gonna do that. So, my advice? Don’t even make the trip. It’s...well, it’s probably not worth the effort.”

Kevlan nodded. “I understand, Varric.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Sera, you have an abject disrespect for authority, don’t you?” Kevlan asked.

“Yeah? What of it, Mr. Elfy Elf?”

“The Inquisitor foolishly refused the assistance of a band of mercenaries, led by a Qunari. I plan to recruit them behind her back.”

Sera’s eyes lit up. “Do you know if it’s a girl Qunari? Cause if so…” She whistled.

“I...am currently unaware.”

“Eh, works for me. When are we heading out?”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“There!” Kevlan said, pointing to the company. They were fighting off some bandits at their camp. “Sera, pick off the dangerous ones from up here, I’ll go down and assist.”

“Aww, looks like a boy Qunari,” she muttered, spearing a bandit in the head as Kevlan slid down the hill. He dashed forward and backstabbed a bandit, before killing another with a flurry of blows.

“Chargers! Stand down!” shouted the Qunari, a tall, muscular man with an eyepatch, after he slammed the final bandit into the ground with his greatsword. “Krem! How’d we do?” 

“Five or six wounded, sir,” Krem answered. “No dead, thank the Maker.”

He laughed. “Then let the throatcutters finish up, then break out the casks!” He turned to Kevlan, who was observing the site of the battle. Though he and Sera had rushed in to help, it looked like the Chargers didn’t need it. Impressive.

“Ah, welcome! Come on, have a seat. Drinks are coming soon! I take it you’re with the Inquisition?”

Kevlan nodded. “I am Kevlan, of the Lavellan. I came here with another, but they--”

Sera ran down the hill, screaming. The Qunari drew his sword.

“More enemies?!” he shouted. Sera shook her head.

“Nah, I just always scream when I run down hills. More fun, innit? Anyway, you’re a Qunari. Horns and all. Real talk: not meaning to be invasive, or whatever? But what are your ladies like?”

He frowned. “Uh...what?”

“I mean, are they like you? Big and… phwoar….” Sera wiggled her eyebrows.

“Oh. Shit, yeah.”

“ _ Nice. _ ”

Kevlan coughed loudly. “ _ Moving on. _ You’re interested in joining the Inquisition?”

“Exactly. I’m Iron Bull, by the way. So, you’ve seen us fight. We’re expensive, but we’re worth it. What do you say?”

“I have some questions. First...are you Qunari, or Vashoth?”

“Heh! Never met a  _ bas  _ who knew the difference before. Nah, I’m Qunari. Ben-Hassrath. You know what that is?” 

Kevlan shook his head.

“It’s a Qunari order. They handle information, loyalty, security….spies, basically. I’ve been ordered to join the Inquisition, get close to the people in charge, and send back regular reports. It concerns them, you know. The leadership wants to know if they need to invade to save the whole damn world. Hopefully, they’ll be discouraged if they learn what you’re doing.”

Kevlan frowned. “Wait, I’m confused. You’d...be spying on us? And yet, you admit it?”

“Eh, it’s a mutually beneficial agreement. Because I also  _ get  _ Ben-Hassrath reports from all over Orlais. Reports you can use. Besides, with a name like ‘The Inquisition?’ You’d find out eventually. Better to tell you upright, so you don’t have a whole crisis of trust when it comes out.”

Kevlan frowned. This man was a Qunari.  _ Qunari _ , not Vashoth. According to Varric, he shouldn’t recruit him. Something vague about Hawke having trauma, about the Qun, that he refused to elaborate. If he was simply a mercenary, they could live with losing him. But one with access to a Qunari information web? And one who’s very presence, very reports, may be the only thing stopping a Qunari invasion? Well...he supposed Hawke will just have to deal with it. 

Kevlan nodded. “Very well, then. I welcome you to the Inquisition, Iron Bull.”

“Hey, I have a question!” Sera said, raising her hand. “Know any girl Qunari? Like, personally?”

Iron Bull laughed. “Not outside of Par Vollen, I’m afraid.”

Sera sighed. “Shite.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Leliana stood at the war table, absentmindedly looking through the scouting reports.

“No sign of Alistair?” asked Varric, sitting at the table with Hawke.

“No, none yet,” she sighed. “I...I fear for him.”

“Such vulnerability! Are you sure you’re a spymaster?” Hawke said, before Varric elbowed her. “Ow! ...of course, it’s understandable. You two  _ did  _ travel together for quite a while.”

“Yes...yes, we did.” Leliana laughed suddenly. “Did...did I tell you about the time he and Coriander dated by accident?”

Hawke looked surprised. “Well. This I have to hear.”

“She had given him a gift--a locket belonging to his mother, or something of the sort. She said he was dear to her, and he took that as evidence of a relationship. Now, Coriander and I were together by this point, but no one knew, except Zevran--you remember him?--who walked in while we were in a compromising position. Now, Alistair brings this up to him, he assumes she and I have broken up. He tells me as such. I am...shocked. Appalled. I, too, jump to conclusions. I confront my love. I was a bit harsh, shamefully. But the issue was soon cleared up, leaving everyone feeling very awkward.” She laughed again, but her expression turned dark.

“And now, both are missing…” Hawke said.

“Yes.”

“Do….do you know why she left?”

“It’s...complicated. And supposed to be a secret. But...well, she’s doing it for me--so we can be together. She....she said she’d be back within two years. ...hopefully, the Rifts will be gone five months from now. I’d hate to see her come back to find  _ another  _ disaster for her to deal with.” Leliana smiled.

Varric chuckled. “You know...you’re lucky to have her. She seems like a nice lady...funny. You’d expect someone that’s ‘The Hero’ of somewhere to get a bit of a stuffed head.”   
“As opposed to someone that’s ‘The Champion’ of somewhere, who are paragons of modesty,” Hawke joked. Leliana smiled again.

“You best get going. You and Kevlan must be at Vivienne’s ball tonight.”

“Right! I forgot about that! Try not to get blown up while I’m gone!” she cried, running out of the Chantry, past the Qunari--

Wait.

Hawke turned around to get a look at him. He was sitting by a tent, just outside the town gates. Hawke rubbed her mouth. 

She approached him.

_ All right, Hawke, you can do this. Maybe he’s  _ not  _ a mage-hating psychopath… _

She cleared her throat. “Excuse me? You wouldn’t happen to be the leader of the Chargers, would you?” she asked sweetly.

“Yup, Iron Bull. That’s me.”

She took a deep breath. “You...wouldn’t happen to be Vashoth, would you?”

He laughed. “You’re the second  _ bas  _ I’ve met that knows the difference. Nah, I’m a Qunari. Ben-Hassrath, if that means anything to you.”

Hawke’s eye twitched.

“Yes. It means something. Excuse me for a moment.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Kevlan bowed to Hawke as she entered the training grounds.

“What brings you here, Inquisitor?” She punched him.

“You  _ went behind my back _ ,” she growled.

“For the good of the Inquisition,” he retorted. “I don’t regret it.”

“I’ll  _ make  _ you regret it!” she shouted, holding him up by his collar.

“Iris?”

She turned around. Merrill was watching, a look of concern on her face.

“What are you doing,  _ ma vhenan? _ ”

The anger evaporated from Hawke’s expression. She let go of Kevlan.

“...forgive me,  _ falon _ . I...lost my temper. Just a little. I’ll...you know. Go find it. Put up a nice poster. ‘Missing temper. If found, return to Hawke. Preferably before she...murders the only one capable of closing the Rifts.’” She smiled. It was a fake smile. Kevlan stood to his feet, staring as the two walked away.

“I saw the Qunari. It’s about that, isn’t it?”

Hawke nodded, then laughed bitterly. “Admiral  _ Isabela _ .  _ ISABELA,  _ she signed it. And here I am, one sternly-said given name away from murder.” She rubbed her mouth.

“Does...does it still hurt?”

Hawke tapped her head. “Only up here, Freckles. So, was my apology to Kevlan sufficient? Or do I need to make him a ‘sorry for almost throttling you to death’ card?”

“By the Dread Wolf! Can you take nothing seriously!” Merrill sighed. “Iris, you’re  _ hurting _ .”

“...does that sentence end with ‘my feelings?’ Or preferably, ‘my chances of victory at Wicked Grace?’” She sniffed.

“You’re crying.”

“I’m sweating from my eyes.”

“You’re joking to hide the pain. Why?”

“...is this a trick question?”

“Iris. Why?”

“Oh, look at the time! I really need to be preparing for that party--”   
“Don’t you trust me?”

Hawke sighed. “The trust card again?”

“You’ve pulled in plenty.”

“Perhaps we’re equally adept at looking after each other, and simultaneously awful at looking after ourselves.”

“It more or less evens out, doesn’t it?”

“Into codependence? Or ‘mutual support,’ if you’re charitable…”

Merrill sighed. “ _ Dirth a Ar, ma vhenan. Amalin atish’an. Suledin, em Ar.  _ Please.”

Hawke sniffed and nodded, face wet. “ _ Ar...Ar wan halani _ .”

“ _Ara m_ _ a'desen melar, ma vhenan. _ ”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Kevlan met with Hawke at their carriage thirty minutes later. Josephine and Leliana had forced him into an Orlesian suit. Perhaps he was simply not used to  _ shemlen  _ clothes, but by  _ the Dread Wolf _ , was it uncomfortable. Hawke was also wearing a suit--black, with white gloves. Her hair was let loose and neatly brushed. She would have looked fetching, if not for her flushed face and noticeably red eyes.

“Have...have you been crying?” Kevlan asked, concerned.

She wiped her eyes. “This is the part where I deflect questions with humor.”

The two entered the carriage, which started off down the road. After a few minutes, Kevlan spoke up.

“I apologize,  _ el’falon _ .”

“I try to kill you and  _ you’re  _ the one apologizing? Now I’ve seen everything.”

“I asked Varric about recruiting the Chargers--Merrill, too. He told me you had good reason to hate the Qunari, and that it was best I not even investigate the offer. And she said having a Qunari around would cause you pain. I ignored both of them.”

Hawke shrugged. “Eh, I got to punch you in the face for it. That’s good enough.”

“I can still expel them from the Inquisition, if--”

“No, no, they’ve already been paid for. And I don’t suppose you can be picky with your allies during Blights and Skyholes.” She sighed.

“...he also wouldn’t tell me what...parts of the Qun you found objectionable. He said that it wasn’t his place to discuss your trauma. ...do you mind if I…?”

“So. Do you know what the Qunari do to their mages?”

Kevlan looked surprised. “I...didn’t think they did anything special.”   
Hawke rubbed her mouth. “Glad we could have this conversation.”

Both fell silent for the rest of the trip.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Oh!” said an Orlesian woman as the two entered the estate. “You are the Herald, are you not?”

“...I am the one called the Herald, yes,” Kevlan said, rather cautiously. He turned to Hawke, but she had already slipped away to eat cheese.

“I thought so! It would be so silly if some other Dalish elf was invited! Especially not one in a suit!” She laughed. Kevlan felt distinctly uncomfortable. He turned to Hawke again, who had cleared a spot on the table to sit on.

“Does the ham really taste like despair?” she asked one the guests gawking at her.

“Pah! The  _ Inquisition _ ,” mockingly said a man as he descended the stairs. “Political outcasts grabbing for power in a crisis!”

“I don’t see  _ you  _ doing anything about the Breaches,” Kevlan said.

“Don’t you dare mock me! I deserve  _ respect!” _

“What makes you think that?” he growled.

“My family once had honor, and we shall have it once more--when you are  _ dead by my hand! _ ” The whole party gasped as he drew a sword. Hawke stuffed more cheese in her mouth.

“...are you some sort of idiot?”

The man growled. “I  _ was  _ going to take this outside, but it seems you have no honor to speak of. I shall simply  _ kill you where you stand! _ ” He lunged forward and was immediately frozen in his tracks.

“Really, my dear baron, I always knew you were a fool, but  _ this? _ ” said a woman as she, too, descended the stairs.  _ The Imperial Enchanter, presumably _ , thought Kevlan.

“Please...free me…!”

She turned to Kevlan. “It is your honor that he challenged. What would you have me do with him?”

He grunted. “Kill him, free him. It matters not to me.”

“Ooh! Ooh!” Hawke said, raising her hand. “Can we push him down the stairs and see if he shatters into glitter?!” Everyone stared at her. Vivienne released the man, and he ran off.

“We have business to attend to. Care to join me?”

“Inquisitor Hawke and I would be honored to discuss an arrangement,” Kevlan said, bowing. Vivienne frowned.

“Hawke? The Champion of Kirkwall?”

“Ah, so my reputation precedes me!” Hawke said.

“That’s not a good thing.”

The three gathered beneath a window on the second floor.

“I had planned to offer my services to the Inquisition,” Vivienne said. “Of course, that was before I knew  _ you  _ were its leader.”

Hawke shrugged. “At least I came out of this with  _ cheese! _ Come on, Kevlan, let’s go.”

“Stop,” he said sharply. Hawke stopped in her tracks. “Why do you hold such contempt for her? You are a mage, are you not?”

Vivienne frowned. “I do not blame you for your ignorance. This is a war of men, not of elves. From afar, the lines may seem clear. But it is not as simple as that. Do you know how the war started?”

Kevlan scratched his head. “I recall that the Templars tried to kill every mage in Kirkwall. And that Hawke defended them. And that inspired the Circles all over to declare independence from the Templars.”

Vivienne nodded. “That is the basic outline. But it is not so simple. Do you know what the Right of Annulment is?”

“Oh, yes! Of course!” Hawke shouted. “It’s the little piece of paper that says the Templars can just decide to  _ murder every mage in a Circle  _ just because they feel like it!”

“It is only used when a Circle is beyond help--when corruption and Blood Magic is so thick within its ranks that it is not worth further endangering the lives of the Templars to distinguish the one good mage from the nine maleficarum. Knight-Commander Meredith had the right to call for annulment--and from the number of abominations within the Circle, she did not do so without reason.”

“She did so because a  _ completely unrelated  _ mage did something with  _ no relevance  _ to the Circle!”

“She did so because  _ your friend, _ Anders, committed an  _ act of terrorism!  _ And because  _ you  _ stood by him!”

“He was willing to sacrifice his own life to expose Meredith’s madness and the fascist reality of the Circles!”

“He was willing to sacrifice the lives of  _ innocent Chantry members _ , that he had  _ no right  _ to say deserved death! They are dead, and yet--despite your talk of sacrifice-- _ he yet lives,  _ spared by  _ your very hand! _ Not three years later, Circles all over Thedas vote to leave the Chantry--to stand with a terrorist and a maniac Blood Mage!”

“Wait, I’m confused,” Kevlan said. “This...Anders, who blew up the Chantry? He was a Blood Mage?”

“No, he was  _ merely  _ an abomination,” Vivenne spat. “The maleficarum is the one  _ in charge  _ of your Inquisition! She practices forbidden magic, not even  _ bothering  _ to hide her deviancy!”

“Hey, I’m all about deviancy,” Hawke quipped. “Just ask my wife.”

Kevlan looked at her in shock. “You? You’re a Blood Mage?”

“Yes. Since I was fifteen. Made a deal with a Spirit of Lust.”

“You made a deal with a  _ demon? _ ” Kevlan shouted, incredulous.

“NO! It was a  _ spirit _ .”

Vivienne frowned. “Of  _ lust _ .”

“Yes.”

He...really didn’t know what to think. Hawke was a Blood Mage. The very figure of evil that the Templars painted all Apostates as. He... _ barely  _ knew what to think, what to think of Hawke, of her apparent  _ approval  _ of...whatever this ‘Anders’ did. So he decided to change the subject.

“Wait, I’m confused,” Kevlan said. “So, the Circles voted to leave the Templars and Chantry…”

“Yes!” both shouted.

“So all mages became apostates?”

“Yes!” shouted Hawke, as Vivienne shouted “No!”

“Some, like myself, choose to stand with  _ order  _ and  _ safety,  _ remaining loyal to the Chantry and what remains of the Circle. As I said, the Rifts concerned me, so I made an effort to reach out to the Inquisition to join it. I see now that was a mistake.”

“You and me both, sister! Now, how about we get some more cheese and scram…” Hawke said, tugging Kevlan by the arm.

“No.”

“...you’ll have to elaborate,” Hawke said. Kevlan stood resolute by Vivienne.

“You won’t join for Hawke, I understand that. So join for me. Join for Orlais. Join, knowing that it doesn’t matter what anyone thinks of mages if they all die when the sky swallows them up. Give us a  _ chance _ .”

Vivienne stared at him. Hawke tugged his arm again.

“...you are passionate, Herald. And convincing.”

“Boo…” whispered Hawke.

“I will return to Haven with you. I will support the Inquisition...for now.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case y'all don't speak Elvish (for some reason) and aren't linguists (for some reason):
> 
> Dirth a Ar--Talk to me
> 
> Amalin Atish'an--Find peace.
> 
> Suledin, em Ar--Endure with me
> 
> Ar wan halani--I need help
> 
> Ara ma'desen melar--I will hold you here


End file.
